#it may not be right but that’s reality and getting up in arms about it won’t help anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cupid-styles · 6 months

Text

only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)

in which harry owns a tattoo shop, sells weed on the side, and has a big crush on y/n, a shy virgin who's very much enamored by him.

here is part one of tattoo/plug harry!!! I hope you like it :) please lmk if you'd like more from them <3

word count: 10.2k (!!!!)

content warnings: y/n's parents being unkind people, comments and discussions about weight/disordered eating, fainting (caused by a piercing), smut! (y/n's first time being fingered, dirty talk, harry being a soft dom)

masterlist | talk to me

part two

. . .

Y/N doesn't know why she's here.

If the glares from the employees of the tattoo and piercing shop are anything to go off of, they don't know why she's here either. And it all makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.

In reality, she does have a reason to be here. Mai, one of the few friends she's made in her grad school program, asked if she would drive her down to The Village for a tattoo appointment she had.

Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she asked, especially when she pressed for more details about this tattoo she was getting (it was a strawberry just above her hip, which Y/N didn't quite understand considering she thought tattoos were supposed to be meaningful). But, ever the pushover, Mai ended up convincing her, going as far as getting her to come inside — the one boundary she had — and wait while she got it done.

(Thankfully, her parents had some benefit charity thing going on today, so they weren't concerned with Y/N's whereabouts or where she was taking the car they bought her on a Saturday afternoon.)

The shop, called St. Mark's Place Social Club (aptly named, she supposes, considering it's located on St. Mark's Place), is nice. Unlike what she imagined tattoo parlors would look like in her brain, the spot Mai chose to get tattooed at seems sanitary and actually quite trendy.

It's not wildly crowded with customers hustling and bustling around, but there's a few artists at work at their own small stations. The walls are painted a cozy forest green, all donning frames upon frames of, what Y/N assumes are, sheets of tattoo designs. The receptionist who checked Mai in even offered them some water, which Y/N thinks was very nice.

"Are you nervous at all?" Y/N asks quietly as they sit in the rattan chairs in the waiting area. Mai's filling out some questionnaire on an iPad, but she shakes her head at her question, crossing her legs.

"No, not really," she murmurs nonchalantly, "I have a few tattoos already and I've been here before. The artist that's doing it is really cool and he's so hot."

Y/N's mouth forms around an oh as Mai quickly taps her signature into the tablet. She stands from the rickety chair and walks back over to return it to the front, her heeled boots clacking against the wood floor as she does.

Y/N has her gaze set low in her lap, eyes passing over her fresh manicure (her mother has a standing weekly appointment for her). She doesn't even notice that someone's standing over her — more so, towering over her — until the figure clears his throat, her head snapping up to address them. Assuming she's done something wrong (what it is, she isn't sure), she goes to apologize immediately, but the long haired man in front of her cuts her off.

"You have an appointment?"

Instantly, she flounders. Her mouth drops open as she stumbles over an answer: "I— um, no, I'm not— no, no appointment."

"So you're a walk-in, then?"

"N-no," she shakes her head quickly, his all-black outfit forming a blur in front of her eyes, "No, I'm not getting a tattoo."

The man laughs. He actually laughs at her, and Y/N doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or pleased that she's made this very attractive man smile.

"You're sitting in a tattoo shop. You know that, right?" the stranger crosses his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, and Y/N's eyes fly to the swirls of black ink covering his skin. They're everywhere; all different fonts and images and numbers and... she wonders if he even knows what they all mean or how many he has.

"Yes," she finally manages out, folding her hands neatly in her lap. It's the default body language she goes to when she's nervous — when she was a teenager, her parents paid for her to go to social etiquette classes, and the instructor told her that this was a good way to show that she was in control of her actions, even if underneath her pastel pink turtleneck, her chest was covered in hives. "No, I'm not getting a tattoo. I'm here with someone getting one."

Thankfully (though Y/N would've preferred it happening about two minutes earlier), Mai walks back over to them, a grin taking over her features when she spots the man talking to her.

"Harry!" she greets excitedly, and Y/N watches as his eyes flicker over to her, flashing a tight smile in her direction.

"Ah. This is who you're here with." he — Harry, apparently — says to Y/N. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that (if she's supposed to say anything), but any response is once again cut off. "Hey. You ready?"

She only now notices the gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw moving in a hypnotizing way. His tone appears to be far more clipped with Mai, but Y/N is fast to chalk it up to some fluke. Maybe the other employees mentioned something to Harry and they thought she was in the wrong place or something. That would make sense, she thinks.

"Yeah, all good. I'll see you in a bit, Y/N," Mai nods, swinging her bag over her shoulder, focusing her attention to Harry, "So listen, I'm going to a show in midtown tonight, I was thinking maybe after we finish up here we can—"

"Are you coming back with us?" Harry's eyes fall back onto Y/N, and it's only then that she realizes he's talking to her again.

"Uh... am I allowed to?"

He smirks. Y/N's chest feels like it may concave in simply from the sight.

"I own this place, so yeah, you're allowed to."

Mai's tapping her foot impatiently now, her hip popped out slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. "My appointment started a few minutes ago, Harry—"

"Okay," he says curtly, turning on his heel to face her, "Go in the back and get ready then. You know where my station is."

Both Mai's and Y/N's jaws drop at that, his snappy tone clearly not one to fight back on. Surprisingly, Mai does just that, turning around and walking back to where Harry has his things set up.

"You coming, then? Y/N, right?"

The teasing smirk is still painted over his features, as if he finds humor in outwardly rejecting Mai's advances. Y/N doesn't know why her heart beats a little bit faster at that, warmth spreading from her chest to the rest of her body as he continues gazing down at her.

"Y-yeah," she answers, grabbing her purse and standing up. "If it's not too big of a deal."

"Course not. C'mon, you can follow me."

. . .

Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.

However, Y/N can hardly focus on the artistry and apparent talent because she's far too busy staring at Harry, who also looks beautiful while he works.

It's distracting, embarrassingly so, that she barely even registers when he's finished wrapping her new tattoo in some sort of clear wrap, sending her back up to pay. Quickly, Y/N scrambles to grab her things, realizing that she's once again left alone with Harry.

"What, running away so soon?" He asks as he cleans up his work station, spinning around to face her in his chair. He has that smirk on his face again — the one that simultaneously intimidates her and makes her entire body burst into flames — and anxiety begins to eat away at her, nervous of saying the wrong thing.

"I just— you're done. So I was gonna go."

"How do you know Mai?"

It bothers her somewhat that he ignores her, but being the subject of his intense glint, she shifts her stance from foot to foot, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're in the same grad program. We've had a few classes together." she answers obediently, clutching the strap of her purse closer to her shoulder.

"Mm," he hums, tossing some paper towels in the trash, "You sure you didn't want any tattoos today?"

Y/N's face erupts into a hot flush for the thousandth time today and she instantly begins to shake her head. "No. No, thank you, I mean. My parents would kill me."

"Your parents?" Harry asks, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. "You're in grad school. Surely you don't make decisions on your appearance based off of them."

He punctuates his sentence by giving her a once-over and she feels nervous under his gaze. She's never particularly felt good about her appearance. She's always just felt... neutral. She grew up with a mother who was constantly dieting, imparting weight loss tips on her every chance she got. When Y/N hit puberty, her father made comments about how grateful he was to finally see her drop the "baby weight". Even now, her mother critiqued her, making comments about how important it was to maintain a good figure; that she'd never find someone to spend her life with if she didn't take care of her looks.

So, all in all, it was safe to say that tattoos were extremely off the table for Y/N.

"It's complicated," she finally replies vaguely. She knows that most people in their mid-20s aren't as deep under the thumb of their parents as she is, but she wasn't lying when she said this — the circumstances weren't as black and white as she wished they were.

However, there was something she'd always been curious about, and she had seen the piercing rates out in the front of the shop.

"But, um— do you guys do piercings?" she follows up before Harry has a chance to question her parents any further.

"We do," he replies slowly, "Well, yeah, I do. Why, are you thinking about getting something pierced?"

She swears his eyes quickly glance to her chest, but just as quickly as she notices it, they're focused back on her face. She clears her throat, willing herself to have an ounce of self-confidence.

"I was wondering if I could get my ears pierced."

Harry quirks an eyebrow and stands from his chair. Her heart rate speeds up tenfold when he walks over to her, his hand reaching outward.

"May I?" he asks, pausing before he makes any movements. She nods, hoping he misses the way her throat bobs in nervousness. Gently, he pushes some of her hair behind her ear, taking a look at the lobe. He does it to the other one and she wonders if he can sense that she's holding her breath.

"Hm, you really don't have them pierced," he mumbles lowly, eyes flitting back to her face. "Yeah, we could do that if you'd like. You sure daddy won't get too pissed?"

He says it with a simper though she's not entirely sure why; she thinks if he understood the dynamic between her and her parents, he'd be more concerned than teasing. Nevertheless, she shakes her head.

"Like you said," she says softly, blinking as they stare back at one another, "I shouldn't make decisions on my appearance based on what they want."

His smirk breaks into a grin, and for the first time, Y/N feels like she's doing something right.

. . .

Y/N didn't think she would be this nervous to get her first piercing, but between the gorgeous man invading her space with a needle and the fact that Mai definitely won't want to be her friend anymore, she's feeling a little tense.

Before getting situated in the chair, Y/N said that she needed to tell Mai she'd be a bit longer, but Harry waved her off and told her he'd take care of it. Apparently, that just meant peeking his head out from his work station and yelling out to Mai that Y/N was busy and wouldn't be driving her home. (Y/N thinks she heard Mai practically stomp out of the shop.)

So now, she's spending her Saturday the last way she thought she would: With her eyes squeezed shot, anxiety making her heart thump far too fast in her chest, with a long-haired tattoo artist hunched over her body. He's so close that she can smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and she has to resist breathing it in as she inhales deeply in an effort to calm her heart rate.

"Alright, you ready?" Harry asks lowly, his tone a groveled murmur that sends tingles down her spine. She nods, feeling particularly speechless from his closeness and her nerves. "'kay, I'm gonna count to three. Take a deep breath."

Y/N imagines he looks especially gorgeous right now, but she's too scared to open her eyes and see the needle he's about to puncture her skin with. Instead, she simply nods her head again, mentally preparing herself for the countdown.

"Breathe, dove," he says calmly. Her stomach jumps at the pet name but does as he says. "Good. Okay... 1, 2, 3."

She jumps from the bite of pain that stings her earlobe, instantly wedging her bottom lip between her teeth as he shushes her.

"It's alright, that was it," he murmurs, though she can still feel him at her side, carefully wiggling the earring into the newly formed hole. "Y/N? You okay?"

She blinks her teary eyes open and opens her mouth, willing her throat to push out a yes. Instead, Harry's face goes blurry as the images in front of her get hazy. In a panic, she tries to stand, the ringing in her ears sending loud alarms to her brain. She thinks she hears Harry tell her to sit down, his strong arms taking a hold of her own — but that's when everything goes dark.

. . .

Harry's known this girl for all of two hours, and he's never felt panic ravish his body the way it did when she passed out a few minutes ago.

Thankfully, she comes to less than two minutes later (he counted), but he remains by her side the entire time, gently stroking her hair back. As a professional tattoo artist and piercer, he's of course had people faint under the needle, but it's never happened from just a standard ear piercing.

He supposes he maybe should've prepared himself for this. The sweet girl who accompanied Mai didn't look like she belonged at St. Mark's Social Club, but the moment his eyes zeroed in on her, he felt pulled to her. From the pastel pink top that stretched over her chest to the white ribbon tied in her hair, she was the opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to — and yet, all he wanted was to tuck her under his arm, pull her into his chest, and spend the rest of his life protecting her.

Harry tells himself he's being stupid; some lovesick nerd that just needs to get his cock touched, but as he watches her slowly nurse a cup of water, warmth returning to her complexion, every doubt is thrown out the window.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N pouts, lifting a hand to run through her hair, "I'm... I feel so stupid, I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks through furrowed brows. "It's not your fault. People pass out all the time here, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Y-yeah, but this is annoying... you probably have another appointment coming up and—"

"I don't."

"Yeah, but—"

"Y/N?"

"What?"

"Stop it."

She huffs, but the apologies stop after that. With his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall, he watches to make sure she finishes her water. He can tell she's still feeling embarrassed and it bothers him that she thinks of herself as something to feel sorry about.

"Y'know, kinda looked like some kind of badass Sleeping Beauty while you were passed out," Harry says with a smirk, making her eyes widen, "Pretty cute, if you ask me."

Y/N's face warms and he chuckles, deciding that making this girl blush is his new favorite past time.

"You're being silly." she mumbles, finishing off the water with a final swig. He shakes his head and takes the empty cup from her hand, tossing it in the garbage can behind her.

"Would never lie to you, dove. We're going on what, three hours of knowing each other? I wouldn't even dream of it."

"Harry," she whines and it makes him immediately grin, especially as she pushes her bottom lip out in a slight pout, "Shush, stop it."

"Think I should just call you princess from now on, hm? Such a pretty face coming in here, think I got lucky having you pass out on me."

He laughs loudly when her lips part, her jaw slack from the compliment. She doesn't have a comeback for that one, but he assumed as much. He turns to face the cabinets behind him and grabs a paper towel and a pen, quickly scrawling out his number on it before handing it to her.

"This is my number. I'm not gonna do your second piercing today 'cos that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I want you to text me when you wanna come in and get it done," he explains, "I only work here on the weekend, but I'll come by any day you're free, princess."

She shuffles her feet before nodding her head, stuffing the paper towel in her bag. "O-okay. That sounds good."

"Good," Harry breathes, reaching out to for her hand to help her up, "Do you need a ride home?"

"No!" her eyes dart away from his face, blinking quickly as she focuses on the dark green walls. "Um, no, thank you. You've done enough for me today. I appreciate it, Harry."

"Sure," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, "Okay, well... get home safe for me, alright?"

"I will." she nods and punctuates her sentence with a harsh swallow. "Can I... is it okay if I text you when I get home?"

A gentle smile wiggles its way onto Harry's face, warmth filling his body once again.

"You took the words right out of my mouth, princess."

. . .

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

hi, im home!! im so sorry again for what happened but thank you sm for making sure i was okay. hope it wasn't too inconvenient!

Y/N's never texted a boy she has a crush on (well, except for Jason Saunders in the 8th grade, but her dad found out within the hour and made her delete his number as he watched). She thinks she must still be lightheaded from fainting because there's no way she can seriously have a crush on someone she barely knows, but nonetheless, she pushes herself to message him to at least thank him for everything he did for her.

She sighs as she throws her phone in her purse and climbs out of her Range Rover. Locking the doors, she crosses her fingers as she walks up the stairs and to the elevator of the luxury garage, pressing the penthouse button on the panel. She hopes her parents are still out — if they're home, she'll be on the receiving end of their badgering for the rest of the evening, and she still wants to work on a paper she has due later next week.

When the sleek elevator doors open, she's met with silence — the only telltale sign that she's alone, with the exception of her parents' private chef and maid. Relief floods her body as she steps out and into the apartment, toeing her shoes off in the entryway and taking quiet steps to her bedroom.

She's exhausted from the day, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. Mindlessly, she feels for her phone in her bag, pulling it out to scroll through Instagram before she commits to doing work for the rest of the night. Instead, she's met with not one, but two texts from Harry.

Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?

Glad you made it home safely. Don't forget to text me about your second piercing — just name the day and I'm there. xx

She wants to let out a squeal, even if there's a large part of her brain that's constantly reminding her to limit her excitement. He's probably just being polite, she says to herself.

Still, it doesn't stop her from replying a mere moment later, promising to restrain her apologies and message him when she's ready to get her other ear pierced.

. . .

"Where were you yesterday?"

Y/N blinks at her father as she sets down the spatula, shifting her attention from the buckwheat pancakes she's currently cooking.

"Studying on campus," she replies easily, even if she had to coach herself all night to lie. She's never one to fib, let alone to her parents — she's always felt some type of fear when it comes to her father, but she knows he never would have approved if she gave him some vague answer about taking a friend to an appointment.

He lets out a noncommittal humph. "You know there's no reason for you to be getting a masters degree when you'll just work at the company when you graduate."

Her stomach tightens. It's a frequent area of contention between she and her parents — their dream for her has always been to work at their jewelry company as soon as she graduated college, but she somehow managed to convince them to entertain her wish to go to graduate school for an English degree. They told her she could do it as long as she starts at their office as soon as graduation comes around.

She hasn't quite yet figured out how she's getting out of that one. If she even can.

"I know, father," Y/N forces out, redirecting her attention to flipping the pancakes on the pan. "It's just important that I get good grades."

"I can't imagine it's very difficult. You speak the language."

She bites her tongue. Her parents have never understood her love for books, always scolding her for having her head in the clouds from a young age. If she's being honest, books have served as a way for her to escape, always wishing she could be the girl getting whisked away by her romantic interest.

Things always worked out in her books. Potentially having a happy ending like the ones she reads about is the only thing that keeps her going sometimes.

Her mother, looking pristine as always even at 9 in the morning, enters the kitchen just as Y/N's sitting down to her eat. Turning stiffly, her eyes narrow at her daughter.

"Those better not be full fat, Y/N." she says, jabbing her pointer finger at her plate.

"They're not." Y/N says softly.

In response, she simply hums. "I don't understand why you don't just have Freya make you food. She's there for a reason."

Y/N quickly stuffs a bite of pancake into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders as she slowly chews. She's never felt comfortable requesting their chef make her anything to eat when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

"Don't shrug. It's not ladylike," she scolds, Y/N's posture immediately straightening, "We have a lunch meeting with the Franklin family today. If you're available, you should come. You need to start learning the business."

"I have to work on a paper," the lie rolls off her tongue, knowing full well that she nearly finished it last night, "Finals are coming up. School is getting very busy."

"You know, Y/N, you're lucky we grant you all this freedom." her mother spits, the high heels of her Louboutin shoes clacking against the marbled flooring. "One day, you're not going to have this much of a choice in how you spend your time."

Despite only eating half a pancake, Y/N no longer feels hungry. Instead, she just nods her head and rolls her lips into her mouth.

"You're right. Thank you for everything you do for me."

She clears her dishes and goes back to her bedroom before her parents have a chance to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

. . .

Y/N spends the better part of Sunday crying in her bedroom.

She's so exhausted of this cycle. Her parents work so hard to tear her down all the time, never once taking into account what her dreams and aspirations are. She feels like she can't do anything right, as if nothing she'll do will ever please them.

In her fit of anger and sadness, she decides she needs to leave Harry behind. He's just a pipe dream, a tiny little sliver of what her life could be if she had less restrictive parents. That night, when she's laying awake in bed, she decides that in the morning, she'll take the fresh piercing out and throw the earring away, delete his number, apologize to Mai, and pretend like this weekend never even happened.

That is the plan, anyway.

Until she wakes up to her alarm at 8 am and she has an unopened text from him, and her heart beats in a way that she's never truly felt before. She doesn't think she's ever smiled this wide after just waking up, the mere appearance of his name on her screen sending waves of hope and happiness throughout her body.

From: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

How's the piercing holding up?

After getting home on Saturday, he texted her a series of care instructions for the piercing, instructing her to clean it twice a day, twist the earring, and let him know if anything felt off. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt particularly giddy when he told her what to do.

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

good!! no pain or anything and ive been doing what you told me to :)

She has a class at 10 this morning and she knows she should follow her typical routine of a shower, breakfast, and getting ready, but instead, she just lays back in the fluffy tufts of her bedding, smiling to herself as she waits for Harry to text back. A minute or so later, her phone vibrates.

Good girl.

Think you'll come in for your second anytime soon?

Her stomach twists in a delicious way but she's not sure why. There's nothing inherently sexual about what he's messaged her, but it has her craving more, a steady heartbeat forming somewhere deep in her core.

Her eyes read over his question and she bites her lip. She knows that less than 10 hours ago, she was planning to forget Harry, but the feeling he gives her is addictive. She doesn't want to stay away — so she won't.

yeah, if you don't mind doing it :)) maybe today?

In reality, she doesn't want to go under the needle again so soon, but she's craving to see him. He did say he'd come in any day for her.

Harry: I'd love to. What time are you free?

Y/N: i have classes from 10 to 1 today.. would 1:30 work? i can come by on my way home from campus

Harry: How about I meet you at your last class and we walk to the shop together?

Y/N swears her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. Her parents have never allowed her to hang out with a guy outside of anyone they approved of — over the years, they've attempted setting her up with other men of their same financial and social stature, but Y/N was never interested. As a result, they all grew bored of her by the second date, and her parents would yell at her for not being appealing enough.

She doesn't know if Harry will be bothered by the same thing, but she wants — no, she needs — to find out.

Y/N: okay:)

Harry: Great. Can't wait to see you. x

. . .

Harry knows he's pushing it.

This girl may as well have wealthy virgin tattooed across her forehead, but he just can't get himself to stay away. It doesn't seem like she wants him to either, which just makes it harder. And as he's waiting for her outside of her lecture hall on a campus he's never even step foot on, he realizes that they're from very, very different universes.

That doesn't really bother him. He can see the obvious differences — he wears all black, has over 70 tattoos (most of which were impulsive or practice while he was apprenticing), and gives people tattoos and piercings for a living. Y/N is smart and soft; an English major in graduate school, lives with her parents, and drives a car that costs more than his yearly rent.

He's not blind. Although, if he was blind to pretty, innocent girls, he probably could stop walking around with a permanent boner from thinking about how gorgeous she'd look in his bed.

The only thing that can tear him from his thoughts is the sight of her. He watches as she walks through the doors of the building, a slight pep in her step when she notices him, waving her hand with a smile. He licks his lips absently, willing the arousal pooling deep in his stomach to go away.

"Hi," she greets as she approaches him, "How're you?"

"I'm good." he answers, trying his best not to let his eyes wander over her outfit, "How was class?"

"'s okay. Kind of boring. Almost fell asleep once or twice."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles as they begin to walk towards the nearest campus exit. "Gotta stay awake in those smarty pants classes of yours, princess."

He already knows she's blushing before he turns his head to see the familiar flush flower over her skin. He points to the bag over her shoulder, pausing his steps. "Lemme carry that for you."

"Oh— no, you don't have to, I don't want to be annoying—"

"Why would that be annoying?" he asks with a quirked brow. She swallows, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"N-no, it wouldn't," she shakes her head and he nods, keeping his arm stretched out. She pushes the strap down her shoulder and hands the bag to him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you, Harry."

"What d'you have in here, a ton of bricks?" he asks teasingly as he slips the pink tote over his own shoulder.

"No! I have to bring books to campus every day so we can discuss certain passages and stuff. I guess I've been doing it for so long I didn't notice how heavy it is."

"It's very heavy, Y/N," Harry says, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, "No wonder you're falling asleep in class, you're basically doing an upper body workout on your way there."

"It's not that big a deal," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just— it's what my professors want, so."

He continues grumbling, annoyed that anyone would ask this girl to shuttle all this weight to campus every day.

"Can you start parking closer to your lecture halls, then? I don't wanna find out you dislocated your shoulder one day."

She shakes her head. "I don't drive to campus."

"Oh, is parking that bad?"

Y/N begins to fidget, wringing her hands out in front of her as they walk. Harry glances at her from his peripherals, soaking in the nervousness written all over her face.

"No... my parents don't let me drive to campus, that's all."

He hums, attempting to stay unbiased, even if everything he's learned about her so-called parents has only made anger rise in his chest.

"Do they have a lot of limits on things you can and can't do?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

"Is... is that something that bothers you?"

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He shifts his body to face her.

"I've never really told anyone about how they are, but... well, they take care of me. They always have. They just have a very clear vision of what they want for me."

"Right," Harry nods, "Just because they care for you or pay for certain things doesn't mean they're good, though. I'm not saying they aren't— I just don't want you to confuse the two."

"I guess."

He decides to leave it at that, mainly because he can she's growing uncomfortable, but also because they're approaching the shop. He pushes the door open and holds it for Y/N, who sheepishly walks in, Harry close behind.

He doesn't acknowledge anyone as she follows him to his station, but she supposes it's not out of the ordinary for him to do these things since he's the owner. Once they're safely sheltered by the walls of his space, Y/N lets out a breath, sitting down in the chair she was in on Saturday.

After setting her bag down, he washes his hands at the sink. A long-haired guy pops his head in, grinning when he sees Y/N.

"Hey, H," he greets, "Didn't know you'd be here today."

Harry's tone is gruffer towards the man, even though he seems friendly. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I need a favor. I have an appointment that looks like it's gonna take a little longer than anticipated — last minute changes and all that to the design, but Jude is coming in to pickup at 2. You mind dealing with him?"

He glares at the man before assuming what Y/N is starting to call his signature pose — arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back against some surface in his station (today, it's the tattoo bed).

"None of the other idiots can do it? Kinda busy."

"It's your off day, figured you could handle him," he shrugs, "Unless you'd like to introduce me—"

"Shut up." Harry replies, clenching his jaw. A spark zips up Y/N's body, though she's not sure why he seems to take offense to the man's words. "Yeah, I'll deal with it. What does he want?"

"Just some edibles and a few grams of bud. Nothing crazy."

Again, Y/N doesn't miss the way Harry shoots a glare at him, who simply raises his hands in mock defense. As if speaking through some sort of secret language, he backs out of the room, his Adidas sneakers sounding crisply against the wooden floors as he walks away.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"Oh. It's okay."

He turns back around to look at Y/N, who somehow looks even smaller in the chair since they arrived.

"You have no idea what that was about, do you?"

She shrugs, though it's clear that Harry's right. She doesn't often like showcasing her naive nature, like it's some sort of party trick for people to laugh at. It makes her feel sad, a reminder of the "normal" years she could have had if not for her parents.

He sighs and lifts a hand to run through his messy hair. "A few of us sell weed on the side here. It's not really a big deal, but we just do it for some extra cash on the side. I would've rather told you on my own time, though."

Y/N's palms find her thighs, plucking at the hem of her skirt as she swallows, digesting the information. Weed? Her parents had always taught her that all drugs were bad. In their minds, weed was just as bad as heroin, but when Y/N read about states legalizing the former, she didn't quite understand how that made sense.

"I hope that doesn't make you think any differently of me," he continues. "I'm sorry."

She keeps her eyes set in her lap, "Is weed... bad?"

She's expecting him to laugh at her but instead, when she looks up, she's met with a small, adoring smile on his lips. His eyes twinkle just a bit as he shakes his head.

"No, it's not bad, dove. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, really. I know it's legal in some places but my parents always told me to stay away from any drugs."

"I think a lot of parents do that," Harry replies with a nod, "But it can actually be really helpful for people. Mentally, physically. And others just like it, they enjoy the feeling of being high."

She swallows before biting her lip. "Do you... do you like it?"

"I do." he says. "Is that okay?"

She thinks he could tell her he's a serial killer and she would be okay with it.

"Yeah. 's okay."

His grin widens. "Alright. Lemme get you settled with this other piercing. I'll have to step out to sell to Jude at 2, but after that, do you wanna grab something to eat?"

She nods so fast she feels like a bobblehead. A chuckle — the warmest, most melodic thing Y/N thinks she's ever heard — sounds from his mouth.

"Just don't pass out again on me, Sleeping Beauty."

. . .

Y/N takes her second piercing much better than her first.

(And by that, she means she only teared up a little bit, and no fainting occurred.)

She's actually more nervous about the whole weed... thing. She feels torn. There's a half of her that feels intimidated by it; the part that still has a foot stuck in her parents' world, she supposes, where they taught her to never even look at people like Harry. The other half of her is intrigued to see what happens. Fascinated by him, maybe, and the way she feels when she's around him, and she doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.

"Harry!"

Someone calls his name from the main room as he's cleaning up and he peeks his head out.

"Yeah?"

"Jude's here!"

He looks a lot less flighty about it than she assumes he would. Instead, he simply walks back into his station and unlocks a bottom cabinet to reveal a safe inside.

"Know you're watching, princess," he says, turning his head to flash a toothy smirk in her direction. She looks away, blinking nervously. "Don't reveal any of my grand weed secrets to anyone, hm?"

"I'm not," she huffs, making him chuckle, "I'm just... curious."

Harry hums, pulling contents out from the safe. When he's done, he doesn't even bother concealing any of the weed he's just taken out, instead just rising to his feet.

"I'll be right back. We can talk about the curiosity in a second."

Y/N's not snappy enough to come up with a response so she simply watches him walk away. She's only seen drug deals go down in movies and TV shows, where they're dramatic and part of the mob and guns are a necessity. She doesn't think this is one of those drug deals, but who is she to assume?

Surprisingly, Harry returns less than two minutes later with a small wad of cash in his hand. He pockets it, smiling at her when he sees she's still sitting there, the same perplexed look on her face.

"Steal any of my bud while I was gone?"

"Harry!"

He cackles and shakes his head. "Alright, dovie, c'mere."

Hesitantly, she stands, shuffling over to where Harry is back to kneeling on the floor. He looks up at her with an expectant expression, a wordless command to do the same. She does.

"Okay. You said you were curious?"

She nods.

"I've always found that the best solution to curiosity is knowledge. This doesn't mean you have to do anything, but it's good to know about things that may intimidate you," he explains. "So, weed can be found in a few different forms. I only sell flower, which are these little buds," he pulls out a container, showing her the small green nuggets. "And edibles, which is just candy or chocolate, stuff like that, with different levels of potency."

"Oh." Y/N furrows her eyebrows, a small wrinkle forming between them. "That's it?"

He chuckles, "Mhm. That's it."

"And what does it do?"

"Like how does it make me feel?"

She nods.

"It's different for everyone and strains — like, the types of weed — will affect people differently, too. For me, it just makes me a little more relaxed and giggly, more touchy and less in my head. It's nice."

"That does sound nice." she says softly. He hums as he pushes the container back into the safe, locking it back up in the cabinet. "Do you think I would like it?"

It's a question that kind of blurts out without thinking about it. When he turns to look at her, eyes serious and thoughtful, she feels small; the way everyone her age or older has always made her feel. She swallows harshly, immediately regretting it.

"I don't know the answer to that, but if you ever want to try, you can tell me. I'll make sure you have a safe experience."

It's not the answer she's expecting, but instead maybe the one that only exists in her wildest dreams. She looks down to hide her blush and he smiles to himself, ducking down to catch her eyes.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a blushy little thing."

Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though.

"I like it," Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, "I like it a lot."

She thinks she notices his eyes zip to her lips, but just as quickly as they dart down, they're back up to her eyes. She swallows when she realizes they've somehow gotten closer, the distance slowly closing between them in millimeters. She doesn't know who's moving in — if it's him or her or both — but suddenly, she's looking up and his face is hovering over hers, blinking in silent permission. When she doesn't grant it because she's too nervous to speak, his tongue peeks out, licking over his raspberry lips.

"Is this okay?" He asks, minty breath ghosting over her mouth. "Can I do this?"

She nods, because she thinks any noise that would come out of her mouth would be just that — a sad excuse of a squeal. Her heart is pulsing in her ears, her hands trembling over her thighs, and then it happens — he presses his lips to hers, so gently it's almost like they aren't even there. The last time Y/N kissed someone, it was in ninth grade in the locker room after school, and she doubts it even qualified as a real kiss. This is different, though. This is Harry.

He feels the nervousness radiating off of her so he breaks away, despite the already addictive taste of her mouth. He's gone too quickly and it makes Y/N's heart rate quicken even faster.

"Need you to relax, princess." He says with his forehead pressed against hers. "Just follow my lead, okay? Promise it's not hard."

Embarrassed, she nods again, willing him to close the gap for a second time. This time, his lips are quick to move against hers, and it initially takes her by surprise. But she does what he told her to, mimicking his movements in tentative paces. With each passing moment, he's kissing her more and more breathless, and she lifts a shaking hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It's a bold move for her and she swears she feels his signature smirk form into their kiss.

Time doesn't feel like it moves much when Y/N's mouth is on Harry's, but she knows it is because she needs a break to breathe. With panting lungs, she pulls away, watching as Harry's eyes flicker open. His lips are pinker somehow and swollen with spit. The image makes her core throb.

"Y'okay?" He asks. Y/N notices his pupils are darkened and he shifts from his seat on the floor, adjusting his lower half.

"Y-yeah," she nods, "Needed to, um, breathe."

He chuckles. "Yeah? Get a little dizzy there?"

"A little bit."

"Cute," he murmurs, lifting his thumb to swipe a bit of spit away from her bottom lip. Instinctively, her mouth opens, and she watches as his eyes flicker to hers. Through labored breath, he slowly moves his thumb along her plushy lip, resisting the urge to sink it inside. She's not sure why something as small as this is stirring her insides, but her eyes widen when he breaks away, pushing the finger into his own mouth.

"Oh." She breathes out.

"I don't wanna scare you," Harry whispers, "But I'm completely fucked when it comes to you, dove. If you don't want this... want me, I need you to go now."

She swallows. Slowly, she rises to her knees and inches towards him, closing the small gap that formed between their bodies. She's hesitant in her movements but pushes herself to straddle him, gently sinking her ass down into his lap. His eyes widen.

"I want this. I want you." She says.

"Good," Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against hers for the third time that afternoon, "Good."

. . .

Y/N thinks she could go pro at lying to her parents.

A month ago, she had to spend hours preparing the perfect fib, coaching herself on how to articulate it just casually enough so it didn't seem fabricated. These days, they come out like nothing.

I'll be home late, I have a group project to work on in the library.

I'm going to a tutoring session for one of my classes, I probably won't be home until dinnertime.

I'm spending some extra time on campus today so I can get a head start on a paper.

In all truthfulness, school couldn't be the furthest thing on her mind right now. Harry is.

Ever since that day they kissed at his shop, they haven't been able to spend more than a day apart. Mostly, they follow the same routine from that very afternoon, where he'll pick her up from her last class of the day and they'll walk back to St. Mark's together. Sometimes, Harry will have deals to do so they sit and talk in the downtime. Other days, he'll have actual work to tend to, accounting and whatever it is he does as a business owner, so she'll do some homework, enjoying the silent companionship. Y/N never stays too late into the evening, not wanting to push her luck with her parents, but Harry always sends her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless, making her promise to text him when she gets home.

And the kissing... yeah.

Y/N likes to think she's gotten better at it from all the practicing they've been doing. She still gets a bit flustered, but it's one of her favorite things to do with him. The second they shuffle into his station, Harry closes the door so they're finally in private, and it's like a switch is turned on. Within seconds, they're wrapped up in each others arms, mouths wet and hot against one another. She's discovered that her favorite place to be is seated in his lap while his tongue explores her mouth, breathy pants parting her lips. He loves to squeeze her ass over the pleats of her skirt, knowing that it riles her up in the smallest forms of contact — tiny rolls of her hips, nails being pressed into his skin, a slight pull of his hair.

She doesn't think things could get much better with Harry until today, during their typical makeout-and-grinding session, when he ducks beneath her jaw, pressing messy kisses to her soft skin. It's then that the words leave his lips.

"Can I feel you under here, dove?"

His hand is fisting the hem of her skirt and the low tone of his voice makes lightning zip through her body. She doesn't know how to reply — she wants to say yes, but her mouth is dry from immediate anxiety.

"N-no one's ever touched me there," she whispers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry hums, unbothered, kissing her jaw once more before backing away slightly.

"Don't have to do if you don't want to. We can just keep doing what we've been doing if you'd prefer." he replies nonchalantly, his lips swollen. She swallows nervously, perturbed by his frank nature.

"I— I do want you to feel me," Y/N mumbles. It's not a lie — yes, she's a virgin who knows next to nothing about her body besides its reproductive process, but sometimes, when she goes home in the evening, she thinks about what it would like to keep going. She's seen movies and TV shows, but those have only made her even more curious. Sometimes the guy takes it slow and makes it romantic, other times it's painful and uncomfortable. She can only hope Harry would take care of her.

"Where, princess?"

Well, she can only hope that Harry would take care of her in his typical teasing ways.

Huffing, she shakes her head. "I can't say that, H."

"Can't touch you if I don't know where you want it," he murmurs, kissing her cheek lightly. "Wanna hear you say it. Ask me."

"Harry," she whines. "Please? You know... where."

"Here?" he asks, pressing his the warmth of his hand to her thigh. "This where you want me?"

"No."

"Hmm, how about here?" he moves his hand up just a bit further, inching underneath the fabric of her mini skirt to the crease of her thigh. Again, she shakes her head.

"Dunno where you want me then, dove. Thought you were my good girl."

"H-higher." she mumbles, attempting to push her body closer so he gets the hint.

"Higher?" he echoes with a smirk, "Here?"

This time, his fingertips have found the waistband of her panties. It immediately feels wrong, but not because of who's touching her, but rather the act of it. She takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the voice in her head. Slowly, in an act of false confidence, she bunches the fabric of her skirt up at her hips, watching as Harry's eyes widen. They instantly dart down to the small wet patch between her thighs and it makes him groan softly.

"Jesus," he mutters, forgetting about his little game. He gently thumbs at her clit through the material and she jumps. Using his other hand to squeeze her hip, he tries to keep her steady, mumbling out an apology. "Am I allowed to see this cute little pussy?"

She clenches at his question, surprising herself with how turned on she feels from just a few words.

"Yes," she nods, "Please."

"'Please'? Aren't you just the sweetest wet dream, hm?" Harry murmurs. He pushes the width of the fabric to the side, making Y/N shiver from the sudden exposure and being under his gaze. "Are you always this polite or is this just for me, princess?"

She licks over her lips when he parts her pussy with his ring and middle fingers. He hums, dipping a fingertip into her crease and lifting it to his mouth. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes she hasn't answered him yet.

"J-just for you."

"Pretty, swollen pussy just begging for attention. Do you always get this needy when we kiss?"

She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he runs the tip of his pointer finger through her wetness.

A poor excuse for an answer sounds through her lips, the affirmative tone being the only thing that gives him an idea of what she said. He snickers boyishly, Y/N's jaw dropping when they both feel her pussy pulsate.

"I think my girl is a bit naughtier than I thought," he breathes, moving his finger back up to her clit to form slow, small circles. She gasps from the intensity, a new sensation of overwhelming pleasure that she's never received before. "Is that the truth, dovie? Do you wanna be my naughty girl instead of my polite one? Tell me."

"Harry," she mewls, arching her back to press deeper into his touch, "P-please— feels really good."

"Yeah?" he smirks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes Y/N squeeze her eyes shut. "Yeah, does it feel really good?"

"You're— you're being mean—"

"Oh, I don't think so, dove. I think I'm letting you use my fingers to get off, petting this pretty little clit until you cum all over my hand. I don't think that's mean, do you?"

He stops stroking at her and her eyes snap open. She can feel how warm her face has gotten under his touch, quiet puffs of breath ghosting over his lips as his eyes twinkle, knowing what he's done.

"Why'd you stop?" she asks in a small voice.

"You said I was being mean," Harry replies with a shrug, "If I were really mean, I'd leave you here high and dry. Do you want to learn about edging today, Y/N?"

She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hums and lifts his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to swirl around the fingers that were just caressing her. She watches him with wide eyes. She doesn't think she's ever been this turned on in her life.

"Do you like when I tease you?" he asks lowly. They both know the answer — her body couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and Harry noticed it the second he felt her pussy clench against nothing at his mocking tone.

"Y-yes." she whispers.

"Dirty girl," he murmurs, moving both his hands down to her hips to give them a squeeze. He tightens his hold on her and gently moves her up to the tattoo bed, helping her lay down. "We have all the time in the world to learn about what makes your pussy wet, but right now, I wanna make her cum. Can I do that, dovie?"

Y/N nods, allowing him to adjust her body however he wants. He smiles at how pliant she is for him, sticking to her good girl demeanor.

"Need you to tell me if I go too far or if something doesn't feel right, okay?" he reminds her as he fits himself between her thighs, "At any point, you say stop and we do, no questions asked."

"Yeah. Okay."

It's apparent to her that Harry is experienced, because it takes no time for him to wiggle his fingers back to their initial position. His thumb is applying the smallest bit of pressure to her clit, still sensitive from when he was playing with it before, but now he's circling over her hole with one of his larger fingers. She gasps at the slight intrusion.

"Have you ever put your finger in here, princess?"

She shakes her head. "N-no."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, though he can already feel the way her hole is all but sucking him in, "It won't hurt. Promise."

She trusts him — maybe foolishly, because she knows her parents would disown her if they knew the position she was in right now — but she pushes the thought to the back of her head, instead simply answering his question with a nod. He keeps his eyes on hers as he slowly pushes in, a gasp instantly falling from her plushy lips. Her immediate reaction is discomfort, but as he starts to stroke at something towards the back of her walls, it feels... good. Overwhelmingly good. So good that a loud moan frees itself from deep in her chest and he jumps up, gently pressing his other hand over her mouth. He ducks down and presses a kiss to the shell of her ear.

"Know I'm making your little hole feel so good, but there's other people here. I wanna keep those moans just for myself, okay?"

Her eyes roll back as he continues to pump his finger inside of her, the assault on the magic little spot never stopping. She can sense the smirk that's likely formed on his face but she can't find it in her to care because she's never, ever felt this good before. She whimpers against his palm and he groans quietly, the sight of his gorgeous girl writhing beneath him nearly too much to handle. He wills his own raging hard-on away, instead focusing on Y/N's need to cum before he can even consider getting himself off.

"H-harry," she sounds beautiful mewling his name even when it's muffled by his hand, "I feel— I'm—"

"I know, dove, I know," he coos, quickening the loops around her clit. She's growing increasingly sensitive from his touch as her hole throbs around his finger. "Let go for me. Let go for daddy, lemme see that pretty pussy soak me."

Realistically, he would've preferred introducing her to the whole daddy kink thing on different terms, but he's instantly reminded of how insanely lucky he is when those are the words that push her over the edge. His jaw drops as he watches her squirm underneath his hands, riding out her orgasm and squeezing him in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he groans, unable to stop himself from lightly grinding his covered cock against her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her core and his desperation to feel her grows by the second.

When her orgasm finally subsides, she's panting heavily and he swallows, palming himself over his pants.

"Is this okay?" he asks breathily. Y/N raises up onto her elbows, her eyes growing a bit wide when she sees what he's doing. Despite how exhausted she is, she still nods, the curiosity of what he looks like when he comes steadily building inside her. "'s not gonna take me long — that was the prettiest thing I've ever fuckin' see. Jesus."

She blushes but he doesn't notice as he pulls his cock out from under his pants and boxers. He spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself, his gaze glued to the swollen mess between her legs.

In college, Y/N watched porn once. It was with her roommate and her friends, who found out she was a virgin and asked if she knew anything about sex. She didn't, so they had some sort of debauched education night for her, which was really just an excuse to giggle and make fun of the way guys moan in porn. It made her feel weird, watching this couple have sex on camera, but what she does remember is the girl encouraging him to cum. Once she started begging, it pushed him to her orgasm, and Y/N was pretty impressed with that.

So, she swallows her self-conscious nature and gazes up at Harry as the slick pumps over his length grow clumsy. She can see the pre-cum bubbling at the tip and the way he gathers it with each stroke, using it to further lubricate himself.

"Want you to cum for me," she breathes out, the words sounding foreign when they leave her lungs, "Please. Wanna see it."

Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and she assumes she's done something right by the way he quickly squeezes them shut, a quiet fuck falling from his lips.

"Please cum for me, daddy."

Much like it was for her, the use of his honorific is what finally pushes him to his finish. His jaw goes slack and his chest vibrates with muffled groans as spurts of cum rain down on Y/N's mound, eliciting a small gasp as the feeling. It's messy, but she's enamored by how gorgeous Harry looks when he comes: swollen lips, clenched abs, flushed cheeks, his large hand fisted around his length.

"Shit," he mutters, reaching up with his clean hand to push his curls out of his face, "Are you alright? Was that okay?"

She nods far too quickly for her own good. She'd be lying if she says she isn't slightly overwhelmed, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She never wants to forget how good he made her feel, while the knowledge that she's the one that turned him on like that is a boost to her confidence.

"Lemme clean you up, hold on," he says breathily, reaching over to grab one of the folded hand towels in the cabinet. Gently, he runs the fabric over her sensitive bottom half, shushing her softly. He does the same thing for himself and then helps her shimmy her panties back up. "You sure you feel alright, dove? You're being quiet."

"'m okay. Just tired." She replies truthfully, sitting up to lean back against the wall.

"Yeah? One little orgasm and you're ready for a nap?"

She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder, her limbs feeling particularly jelly-like. He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, chuckling as he presses a kiss to her hair.

"That's alright. I'm happy to take care of you however you need, princess."

. . .

"When were you planning on telling me the bookstore is hiring?"

Harry's eyes widen at Y/N's unusually bold demeanor. He glances down at her, following her gaze to where she's staring at the small bookstore across the street. Sure enough, there's a help wanted sign in the window.

"I didn't know you were looking for a job, dove," he replies with a shrug. In all honesty, he's never really paid attention to the business across the street from his own.

"Well... I'm not really, but I do want to start making my own money." she says softly, biting her lip.

He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah? You wanna go see if you can fill out an application?"

Despite her nerves, she still nods her head. Harry smiles and intertwines their fingers together, guiding her across the way to the bookstore. He holds the door open for her and she swallows anxiously, stepping inside the quaint store. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, he gently ushers her to the cashier.

"Hi," she says shakily, "I saw you're hiring people and I was wondering if I could apply."

The woman at the front grins, immediately launching into a conversation with Y/N about how excited she is that someone's interested in working for them. As she pulls a paper application out from a drawer on the side, Harry smoothes his hand over her back, rubbing it gently. He's so proud of her, his heart feels like it could burst.

It's only when she's finishing up filling out her information that someone says her name. They both turn, Y/N's eyebrows instantly furrowing in confusion.

"Y/N," the woman hisses, and Harry glances down to watch his girl's face crumble, "What are you doing?"

"Y/N... who is this?" Harry asks, his possessive instincts immediately taking over.

She swallows harshly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

"Um... this is my mom."

read part two here!

3K notes · View notes

moonsaver · 3 months

Text

Finished penacony. Sunday. Oh dear oh dear.

Yan!Sunday who seems obsessively off with you for the early start of something like a relationship. Calm, but underlying warning tones. One wrong word and you might tip him off too much. You've learned one way to decode his emotions are his wings. They tense up whenever you mention something.. unpleasant. Its a warning. You cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence. The silence passes, and his wings relax. He turns to you with a calm smile on his face. You barely squeezed through, this time.

Yan!Sunday who's just a bit delusional. He deludes himself into thinking about righteousness, and you're some sort of reward for him, for him to keep, and shelter, and nurture, like a christmas gift pet, but something more tender. Tender like a bruise, anyway.

Yan!Sunday, who seems.. to be slipping indisputably. In the corners of your eyes, in private, where he meticulously plans everything, every second where you breathe. He helps you dress and laces up your clothing just as he normally does, but huffs, and insists on doing it again. The first few times, he redid it only twice. His frustration would bleed through his fingers the more things proceeded in time, tightening the lace so much, your limbs almost went blue. He apologizes through gritted teeth, and you forgive him. It doesn't help the fact he practically suffocates you with the way he kisses you, though. His lips land on yours a bit too harshly, and you wonder if he actually hates you. Those thoughts dissipate when he relaxes more into it, though.

Yan!Sunday, who stares at you unblinking, waiting for you in the dreamscape, in the reverie, anywhere. Robin's.. departure has put him under more strain, so just for his sake.. ignore the way he tightly grips your arm, fearing it'll snap.

Yan!Sunday – you can't leave his watchful gaze. The last time you did it, he practically forced you to walk through the real dreamscape, deathly shivering as the atmosphere almost froze you, being forced to walk through unyieldingly harsh and twisted paths, doors never staying in the same place, being forced to use rough traversing methods, the dizziness of the memoria almost feverish. He waits for you at the end, a much gentler version of him. You fall into his arms, sobbing and weeping, and for once he handles you with care. Gently wiping your tears, stroking your hair, his hand guiding the back of your head to his shoulder, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. You notice just how much more warmer he feels in the dreamscape, not just due to the cold atmosphere. His wings gently flutter on your face. Let's leave now, he says. I trust you've learnt, my dear.

Yan!Sunday, who decides that maybe keeping you in the alternate dreamscape, Golden Hour, would be much more preferable. He seethes watching you be eyed by everyone – officials, businessmen, representatives, whoever it may be. He gently lulls you into the dream fluid, kissing your hands, up to your arms, neck, til your cheek, until you finally fall asleep. He places you down and gets to work in a second. When you panic, not being able to wake up, he's right beside you in a heartbeat, telling you there's just been a slight error.

Yan!Sunday, who would even go as far as to construct an entirely new dream for you and you alone. No one would be allowed to visit except him. He tells you it's for the better. Everyone lies in Penacony. Stay put and let him take care of this. Let him take care of you. Of everything. You dont miss the way his hands harden their grip around your waist. His gaze settles gently on yours. It's a harsh contrast to his eerily peering one, in reality. If you even remember what it's like being there, of course.

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail sunday #hsr sunday #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr

1K notes · View notes

a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

Note

Alastor and reader's wedding? What did her dress look like? How did Al react to her wallking down the isle?? PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW

I always cry at weddings 😭 😭 😭

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Possessive Alastor, FEELINGS

Description: ☝️⬆️

If you two got married when you were alive, then I imagine it was a very small and intimate ceremony

You and Alastor did a lot of the decorating yourselves, even making your own wedding cake because Alastor can BAKE

You two had a blast doing it too, turning everything into a little game and making deals over who could set things up the fastest/nicest

Winner gets a kiss from the loser

You two would likely only invite your closest friends and relatives(if you were close with your family that is)

If Alastor's mother was still alive by the time you guys got engaged then she 110% would be there(I genuinely don't remember when she died soooooo)

She would absolutely be his best man because who else would be worthy of such a position??

Happy tears from her the entire time

This woman will walk you down the aisle if she has to, she won't let you walk alone on your big day

Not Alastor holding back tears at the sight of his mother and soon to be wife walking towards him

Mimzy would also have been there, and she would've fought for her right as maid of honor, like physically fought off her competitors

You're haunted by the memory of it, actually

Absolutely sticks her nose in everything but only because she wants it to be perfect for you two

She will tear up anyone who throws a wrench in the ceremony and will run it better than she did her own club

"These floors better be SPOTLESS! If I see a single speck of dust on that dress-"

She probably insisted on paying for the wedding too

Alastor would probably have a last minute freak out at the thought that this is actually happening, he's getting married

But he wouldn't be nervous about you leaving him at the altar or anything like that, just normal wedding jitters

But he's resolute in the fact that he wants this, he wants to be your husband and share his life with you

And he definitely doesn't want anyone else thinking there's a chance they can take you from him

Alastor is positively radiating warmth and pride by the time you're walking down the aisle, blown away by how stunning you look

Whether the dress is unique, traditional or not even a wedding dress-he's amazed by just how good you look in it

It makes his mouth water

He's lowkey preening for you the entire time

It just makes everything seem more real to him, immediately reaching out to take your hands in order to keep himself grounded in reality

He actually is at a loss for words for once...

"You look really handsome..."

The sight of your happy blush brings him back, and he's pressing his forehead to yours

"And you look nearly as good as I do, my dear~"

Ass

The slight quiver in his smile, glassy eyes and tight grip on your hands gives him away though, you know what he really means

You look heavenly to him

Neither you or Alastor listen to a word the officiant says, too busy gazing lovingly at one another to pay them any mind

And you're definitely not getting distracted at the feeling of his thumbs gently caressing over your hands

When it comes to the vows, Alastor definitely puts his heart and soul into trying to make you cry at words

He's putting on a show for you but you love it ❤️

He looks smug as hell when he finishes

His gaze becomes softer as you say your own vows, smile becoming a little more gooey as you make his heart race

"And if anyone is opposed to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Not Alastor and Mimzy giving death glares to anyone who would even dare saying anything

As if you two even invited anybody who would fucking try

"You may now kiss-"

Alastor doesn't even wait for him to finish, tugging you close and kissing you deeply

And once your arms wrap around his neck then maybe the kiss gets a little too intimate

Mimzy is whistling and cheering while Alastor's mother is politely looking away from you two

You two barely pull away to breathe before he kisses you again, seemingly unable to stop

He just can't believe he's kissing his wife

That he's your husband and everyone is going to know that you're not on the market anymore

Not that you ever were before

It's an embarrassingly long time before you two stop, and you're left panting, rosy-cheeked, and weak in the knees

Alastor doesn't move his arm from your waist for the rest of the night, wanting to keep you close

The only time he does let you go is when he goes to dance with his mother or when it's your turn to dance with his mother

Not her giving you both embarrassing advice about the honeymoon and early married couple life

She wants grandkids dammit

When you two are cutting the cake, he does NOT slam a slice into your face but he does put a bit of frosting on your nose

Only to lick it off a moment later

🥵 BOI

If you do it back to him then he will be properly flustered because he was banking on the fact that you would be too shocked to react

He doesn't care about wedding gifts or anything like that but his mother's blessing means everything to him

So her approval of your marriage and you as her daughter in law just solidified how important you'll always be to him

But don't worry because Mimzy definitely made sure to hook you two up with gifts

Alastor literally can't stop kissing you afterwards, your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, ect

If you return even a smidgen of that affection back to him then it'll only make him more excited for your future together

He's not even thinking of the honeymoon, he's just overwhelmed with the urge to give you affection

He just thinks about how he'll never be tired of being your husband and having you as his wife

Waking up to you, going to bed with you, cooking with you, messing with you, hell even fighting with you sounds appealing because then he can make up with you

Alastor never really thought of himself as the type to get married but you came and completely changed that with your love

Even though he was difficult and fought falling in love with you with everything he had

You fought back harder to love him

Now that he's here with you, looking at the wedding band on your finger, the loving look on your face

Your hand on his cheek gently guiding him to look into your eyes as you lean in towards him

Feeling your lips on his own as you whisper loving things against them before kissing him

He's happy you won that fight

This one was a lot of fun!! I was originally going to do two versions of this! One wedding before you two died and one for after you both were dead but then I included his mom and-

I got very carried away

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

1K notes · View notes

lundenloves · 10 months

Note

DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.

Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.

And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.

In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.

"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.

“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.

“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”

Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.

“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”

“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.

It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.

“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.

“Solid. Johnny.”

He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”

Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.

Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up.

“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.

“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.”

“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”

He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.

“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly.

It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.

His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy.

Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.

“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod.

“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”

“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.”

“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it.

“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it.

And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious.

So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.

“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.

“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough.

Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.

“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside

And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.

“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.

Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection.

“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room.

There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining.

Not now anyway.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 #dad!simon

3K notes · View notes

silveryclear · 6 months

Text

MOJABI GHOST

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Ex Female Reader

CW: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Thigh and Knee Riding, Bilingual Dirty Talk, Penetration, Rough Sex, Needy, Desperate Sex, Mating Press, Cockwarming

Description: Miguel drops by your apartment after he can’t stand the silence of his penthouse. He misses you, and tonight, you’ll see just how much~

Translation done by yours truly~

Song: “MOJABI GHOST” by Tainy, ft. Bad Bunny

Smoking,

Drinking,

Fucking,

Pretending that I don’t think about you.

I don’t who I’m trying to kid,

For this feeling,

Won’t let me sleep.

And I wish,

I wish, that I could dream peacefully,

That I could dream about you.

Another night alone. Another night without you.

Miguel O'Hara looks over view of Nueva York while drinking from his third glass of whiskey on the rocks; rocks that have melted and diluted the drink that has been abandoned for thoughts about you.

The truth is that Miguel has abandoned many things because of his mind— the treacherous bitch does not stop thinking about you.

Who could ever stop thinking about you, is the question that he should be asking. But he doesn't. And he’s well aware why.

Because that would require him to accept the reality that he fucked up the only thing that had given him happiness and warmth after what had happened with his daughter. And once again, it’s something that he doesn’t allow himself to forgive.

At first, you were only a hindrance, an annoyance which he could not get rid of. You were always looking at him with that sweet expression, ready to face the next anomaly with a smile and good attitude. He couldn’t stand you. The fact that you could face every problem and tragedy, a particular characteristic of spiderpeople, without your spirit being corrupted ... he hated it. He hated it to death.

Yet, observe how easy it is for him to lie. Because in reality, he never hated you. How could he hate the one person who received him with such a unique and special warmth and affection— the woman who, one by one, took down each one of his walls, making them crumble to the ground and fall as he did when he fell in love with you. Although, too late.

He lets out a dry laugh. There is no doubt that he is Spider-Man: the people he loves never stay for long.

Isn't that how he ended up here in the first place?

He sighs, exhausted. I don't want to think anymore.

He takes a swig from the whiskey and frowns, letting out a sound of disgust from the watered down drink and decides to get back into the penthouse. He looks around.

And now what?

Fuck this pity party. Miguel may not be in his five senses at the moment, but he doesn’t think twice before activating his nanotech suit and traveling to your dimension. He doesn't know what is the right to do; If you prefer your space, that he never contacts you again. All he knows is that he cannot stand this purgatory; and that your screams and curses are better than the overwhelming silence of his apartment.

As soon as he steps out of the portal into your apartment, you can already sense each other. It is almost impossible to sneak up on a Spider person, that's why he isn’t surprised when he finds you sitting in your living room, staring at him without blinking.

"What are you doing here?" You ask without emotion after several seconds of silence.

"You know what I came for." he says as he removes his mask and approaches your figure. However, your cold look stops him in his tracks.

“I don't care. I want you to say it.” you say while you stare into his eyes sharply. He deserves it. "Be direct for once in your life."

"Hey," he warns, baring his fangs. “Don’t push it.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, ignoring his warning. "Then leave. I was clear: don't come back until you tell me how you really feel.”

"Don't you think I want to?!" Miguel shouts, frustrated; Not with you. Never with you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, controlling his anger. When he opens his eyes, you’re surprised to see actual remorse. "I'm dying to have you in my arms again..."

You can’t help to soften your expression when you caught the frustration in his voice and how difficult it is to express his true emotions at the moment. "Then why the hesitation?" You ask softly, your voice a sweet melody to his ears. Then, a sudden thought makes your blood run cold. “...unless I wasn’t good enough for you.” Your voice trembles and you can't suppress the tears that arise.

Miguel’s face falls and without thinking twice, he runs to you and hugs you tightly, snaking an arm around your waist and his hand behind your neck. He listens as you sob into chest and he brings you even closer, his hand gently stroking your back. "Shh... no, my love, that can’t be further away from the truth." He whispers softly into your ear. "I am the one who’s not good enough for you."

Miguel lets out a dry, incredulous laugh. “I'm the worst… to cause the most wonderful woman in all of the multiverse to think the opposite…” He presses a kiss against your forehead and brings you closer to him. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please, forgive me for being such a coward.” He murmurs apologetically as he buries his face into your neck and breathes in your scent.

God, how I missed this smell~

He leans back and stares into your eyes, stroking your cheeks and wiping your tears.

"I love you," he declares, more confident than ever. "I don't want to keep loving you from afar. I don’t want to run away, fearing that one day I will lose you if it also keeps you far from my arms.” He presses his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and whispering the last few words full of emotion, "If I still lose you...”

"God, Miguel..." You crumble once again and hug him tightly. "I love you so much," you confess in the midst of tears. "I’m afraid too, we are both spider people, we both risk our lives to prevent Multiverse from collapsing… our job is dangerous and it is painful to think about the great possibility that I could lose you,” You look into his eyes, holding his face in your hands. "But it hurts more to have you so close, and not by my side."

"I know..." He whispers as he leans towards your sweet touch. “I'm such an idiot. I thought I was protecting you from the pain, but in reality, I hurt you even more.” He stares into your eyes, his gaze full of remorse. "You could forgive this fool in love?"

You laugh softly and Miguel swears that his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, you look at him with a mischievous smile. "Hmm, I don't know..."

Miguel groans and looks at you with desperation, as if he needed to hear that he has been forgiven to be calm. "Love, please..." He whimpers softly against your neck, kissing it sensually.

Your grin becomes wider and playful. You take his chin and make him look into your eyes. "But you sound so nice, Miguelito~” You purr. “Do it again~”

Shit...

Miguel feels how his cheeks redden and he short circuits when he hears your playful and dominant voice. It was a side of you that he had never seen. Or rather, one he never tried to get to know. He was so obsessed with controlling everything that he never realized that he kept you from expressing yourself around him.

Damn ... he definitely deserves to beg to you.

"My love..." He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his. He looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, I beg you... Forgive me. Let me show you how sorry I am.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the sight of the most stoic and stubborn man in the multiverse kneeling in front of you, begging like a dog. Is this a dream? More like a miracle.

"Wow... You really missed me, didn't you, Miguelito~?"

Miguel takes your hand and kisses your palm, staring into your eyes. "You have no idea." He whispers. Your heart skips a beat, blood rushing through your veins at an extreme speed. You feel the love that this man has for you and you cannot avoid the genuine smile that grows in your face.

You place your arms around his neck and you kiss his cheek. "I forgive you. Show me exactly how sorry you are~"

It takes Miguel less than two seconds before he is on top of you, your back on the sofa while his knee separates your legs. It seems as if all your confidence disappears as soon as Miguel touches you, his large hands gripping your waist. You feel tempted to deviate your gaze, but his crimson eyes keep you paralyzed under their intensity, full of lust.

"Oh baby..." he lets out a soft growl as his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver once more. “Eres mía~” (You’re mine~)

His fingers quickly disrobe you, his lips kissing every inch of your soft skin. His breathing quickens, breathing hot and heavy as his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, hand groping the other. He lets out soft grunts and moans of pleasure as he worships your chest, sucking and biting, leaving wet hot marks on your skin.

You grab onto his hair, your back arching off from the couch as he continues his assault. He lets out a particularly long groan when he feels you grind your wet pussy on his knee. He chuckles darkly and presses onto you even harder, making you shiver and moan in delight.

“That’s it mami…” he growls, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Grind that needy pussy on me… make yourself feel good.”

A sound of pleasure escapes from your lips. You close your eyes and decide to immerse yourself in the pleasure that both have refused for too long— no longer wanting to deprive your body of what it craves; and your heart from the one you love.

Your arms wrap around his neck, hips bucking against his clothed knee, soaking the nanotech fabric. He can only watch in awe how easy it was to reduce you to a sensitive mess— rubbing and pressing his thigh against your throbbing pussy, gripping your hips tighter as he guides you.

“Oh fuckkkk… Miguel…” The way you so readily give your body to him— it awakens a primal side to him that even he didn’t realize he had. The need to explore how many times he can make you cum without fucking you with his cock had his mind reeling from the possibilities.

Should he finger you now? Should he make you cum on his tongue? Ride his face?

“Miguel… oh Miguel~” you mewl, the squelching sound of your juices on his leg echoing in the room. Small puffs of hot air leave past your lips, your hips bucking so needy and desperate for friction.

However the night ends, what he does know is that he so desperately craves to hear you whine his name like that again.

“Come on, cariño…” he keeps rutting your hips against his thigh, now unclothed as his dick strains against the nanotech clothing that covers his groin. “What do you need~?”

“Need you…” You pant out, chest heaving rapidly. “Need you inside… please Miguel~”

He chuckles darkly. “Already? But baby, we just started~” He teases, slowing down the rubbing against your clit, making you whine in frustration.

“Fuck that! I missed you, maldito!” You growl, making Miguel’s eyes widen when you voice out your frustrations.

This makes Miguel chuckle heartedly, gazing down at you with affection and primal lust. “You missed my cock that much, baby~?”

“Not your cock. You.” This startles Miguel, actually making him blush. His chest fills with so much love and affection for you. God, he needs you so badly.

“Te amo, mi arañita…” (I love you, my little spider…) Miguel murmurs softly before leaning down and claiming your lips softly. A low moans escape from your lips as you feel just how serious he is. “Missed you… missed your touch…” he breathes out against your neck once he pulls away, his lips brushing against your skin. Miguel shivers and groans, loving the way your warm, soft skin feels against his. You can only watch as he worships you, too paralyzed by this feeling to speak. “Missed your smell…” he inhales your scent softly before pressing a kiss on your neck. “Missed your voice… let me hear it please…”

“Ahhhh… Miguel…” you find your voice, breathing out your response as your chest rises and falls rapidly, trembling underneath him.

“Fuck…” he groans from your needy voice. Miguel trails wet kisses down your hot skin, licking away your sweat. His fangs lightly graze your thighs, teasing you with his tongue. He chuckles when you arch your back, whimpering his name, begging to take you— to do something already!

He grins as he kisses the inside of your thigh. “You’ve never been very patient.”

You whine, your hand making it’s way to his hair and tugging him closer to your throbbing pussy. He chuckles and licks a long, agonizing swipe along your glistening folds, making you groan in response. “Good thing I’ve never been very patient either~”

Miguel takes his time, swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices— yet, the way that he grips your thighs, so close to digging his claws into your skin while he groans from your taste— it only makes him look more desperate and feral than when he first begged for you.

You jolt and shiver in delight, the drag of his fat, warm tongue bringing you to heights of pleasure you only had the joy of experiencing with Miguel. The feelings of pleasure were so delicious and excruciating, it makes you buck your hips against his face. You grind your pussy on his face unashamedly, his nose brushing against your clit deliciously.

Watching from below, how your hips arch and you tug harder on his hair is all that Miguel needed to die happily. His groans and harsh breathing muffled by your desperate grinding.

“Mmm… shlppp… mmnh…” His eyes remain trained on your cute expressions, a particularly harsh suck of your clit eliciting a whiny moan from you that had him reeling.

“Fuck… Miguel…! I’m so close!” You whine so pretty and needy. His claws digging dig into your thighs, pressing his face harder against your cunt as he eats you out like an animal.

Miguel moans against your cunt, murmuring for you to cum on his tongue, to do it now. It comes out a wet, muffled mess, but you didn’t care. You were already a moaning mess as you came, spreading your juices all over Miguel’s face. His tongue works on your core like a man dying of thirst, lapping up every drop of your juices and overstimulating the fuck out of you. He never came up for air, submerged between your thighs, delving his tongue deeper, sucking harder. This is where he belongs.

“Mi— Miguel! It’s too much..!” You whine, trying to push his head away but he’s glued to your pussy— and he’s not moving until he’s licked you clean.

After a few more seconds, he gives your pussy one last lick before he comes back up, his tongue hanging out as he smiles smugly. You twitch and writhe underneath him from the overstimulation, gazing at him with a satisfied and dazed expression. He tantalizingly drags his long tongue around his mouth, lips, chin… cleaning up your cum from his face, making sure you watch. “Dios mío, que rico sabes mami~” (My god, you taste delicious mami~)

You whimper, your hole twitching at the erotic display. Miguel watches as your pussy flutters with primal lust, smiling at you like a predator. “You liked that, baby? Do you still want more?”

Before you could respond, Miguel is on top of you, claiming your lips in a hot, sensual kiss. You groan at the taste of yourself on his lips, this only turning you on even further. He grips your ass, bringing your wet core towards his now fully unclothed and erect cock.

“Mmmngh… mmnh… ahhhhh…” You whimper into the kiss as he grinds his cock against your sensitive folds, spreading your juices all over.

“You want this cock, baby? Huh? I can’t hear you. Tell me how badly you want me. Tell me. Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Miguel whispered into your ear as he kept grinding himself against you, teasing you once again. You can only cry out, frustration building up inside of you as you feel your hole squeezing against nothing, craving his thick cock.

“Please… Miguel…”

“Dime lo que quieres preciosa… ¿quieres que te lo meta? ¿Sí? ¿Quieres que te coja?” (Tell me what you want, precious… you want me to put it in? Yeah? You want me to fuck you?)

“Yes, Miguel! Just… please!”

As much as he loves teasing you, he needed to nestle his cock inside of you. Right. Now.

“M’gonna bury this cock deep inside you… make sure your pussy remembers the shape of my cock…” He chuckles as he lines himself up with your hole and slowly pushes his cock past that first, tight ring inside your cunt. “Fuck… such a tight fit… bet you didn’t fuck anyone with a dick as big as mine…” he groans and pushes further. “no other cock can stretch you out like mine can…”

“No one… only you…” you breathe out in satisfaction as you finally feel your pussy getting full. “M’so full…”

Miguel lets out a string of curses and groans at the feeling of your tight pussy pulsating around him. “Yeah, that’s right baby… only my cock can fill you up this good.” He smirks as he looks down at you, caged between his arms and large body. “Gonna let me fuck this pussy, huh? Want me to pound you until you can’t think?”

“Yes, Miguel! Yes!”

That’s all the confirmation he needed before he started rutting his hips against yours at a fast pace. No time to start slow, no. This is the type of desperate and primal sex that lovers have after they’ve gone a long time without seeing each other. The type that builds up overtime only to be released in the heated thrust of each other’s hips. The type that has you moaning out gibberish and wrapping your arms and legs around him as Miguel thrusts his hard cock inside, going feral on your pussy.

“Fuck… I missed this… I missed you…” Miguel grunts with every thrust, small puffs of air leaving his lips as he ruts even faster, deeper. His muscles flex with every movement. He presses his hot body against yours, feeling your tits brush against his chest with every thrust.

“M-Miguel… please… harder!” You moan, digging your nails into his broad back.

“Yes…” his voice is so rough, so hungry that it’s almost jarring. Every word he says, every look on his face seems to radiate his intense feelings for you.

He needs you, oh, does he need you.

His arms are like steel on your body, keeping you still within his grasp, and he makes you feel every inch of him, pounding himself into you in a frenzy. This is what he had been looking for, needing. He fills your entire existence for just a moment, completely and utterly enraptured by you.

“Te amo… te amo tanto…” (I love you… I love you so much…) he whispers into your ear, biting and sucking on it. One of his hands makes its way between your legs as he rubs your clit. “Ven conmigo, bebé… I need you to cum with me…” (Come with me, baby…)

“Miguel! Ohh… I’m g- Mmm… Ahhhh~!” Your moans are muffled by his lips against yours. The pounding of his cock, his thumb rubbing your pussy, and this hot, searing kiss was all you needed to finally let go. Squelching hot cum bathes Miguel’s cock and balls as you tremble and writhe in ecstasy.

“That’s it, baby… god, you did so good…” he groans, placing your forehead against his as he ruts his hips faster. Grunting as he chases his own release. Not long after, Miguel is cumming inside your pussy, spurting hot loads of his cum so deep you can feel it in your womb. The moans he lets out sound so raw and desperate, you feel like you’re watching a whole other person.

He sighs in satisfaction, pressing a kiss on your forehead before laying down besides you. He pulls you into his body, his cock twitching as he keeps it nestled deep inside your cunt.

“Fuck… I don’t think I’ve ever come this much…” Miguel lets out a breathy laugh and you look at him in awe. The afterglow of your session makes him look so… ethereal. You blush and involuntarily clench your pussy around his cock.

Miguel chuckles. “I felt that, preciosa~”

You roll your eyes and look away from him, flustered. “Then take it out!”

“Mmm… why should I~? I very much prefer having you close like this.” Miguel inhales in your scent and presses a tender kiss on your neck. The action flusters you further, making you blush at his sweetness and his opposing teasing.

“Te amo, mi vida…” (I love you, my life..) He whispers softly as he closes his eyes, bringing you closer into his embrace.

You smile softly and close your eyes as well, slowly dozing off. Not before you utter the same words back, “Te amo, Miguelito~”

A/N: A little fun fact: this fic was originally written in Spanish first because I wanted to practice writing (specifically smut) in my native language. I might end up posting both languages on AO3.

#fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #smut #smut writing

2K notes · View notes

bettysupremacy · 5 months

Note

Omg imagine james doing something stupid (not much imagination needed there) and r is telling him of (lovingly) and he’s just like “yes ma’am🫡” and the others are like side eyeing him I just NEED james to call me ma’am in an argument

i hope you are having a great december so far my love

(not much imagination needed there) LOL

i could kiss you this idea is so cute thank you lovely

“Oh, my boy.” You croon to the mess tumbling into your lap. Softly, you brush some hair from his fluttering eyes. “What‘ve the evil twins done to you.”

“Evil twins!” Sirius gasps.

Remus laughs. “That’s a new one.”

You don’t look up from the sickly boy careening for your touch. “What did they feed you?”

He moans into you, muttering something you can’t pick up. He’s gone all right, ten shades of flushed and warm to the touch. It’s already a warm night, but this is no warmth that came naturally.

“We didn’t do anything.” Remus denies impishly.

“Puking pastilles again?” You eye them. “Do you know how long we sat by the toilet?”

“That was not our fault.”

“And neither were the nosebleed nougats?” You sigh. “Seriously thought his brain was coming out his nose.”

Sirius nods in agreement nose scrunching. “Not his finest moment.”

“Because of you.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.” His finger points between your eyes.

James is malleable under you, nose pressing into your thigh coyly. You see the corner of a smile as you fuss, guilty pleasure at your roaming touch. The room is hot, warm bodies passing and going as they please through the small flat. You fear he may run a fever, though that’s uncommon. James immune system is a rock, solid at anything thrown to it.

You press your hand to his forehead. “Has he had to much?”

The boys eye each other suspiciously. “Too much?”

You scoff. “To drink?”

“Depends.” Sirius shrugs

“On what!”

Their dubious behavior alarms you. These boys are up to something, or rather, were up to something, and now they’re avoiding dealing with the consequence of you.

“The substance.”

“Substance?” You sit up straight, shuffling the boy under you. He grumbles in protest.

“Potion.” Remus gives.

You frown apprehensively. “You didn’t.”

“We didn’t,” Sirius starts.

“he did.” Remus finishes.

Felix Felicis. They’d been talking about it a couple weeks ago, getting their hands on some. You protested, begged them, to forget it. It’s too dangerous, your voice of reason lowered their spirits, James you’ll be sleeping on the couch if you risk yourself like that.

“No,” You whine, fretting over the intoxicated fool. “how much?”

“Ask loverboy.”

“The whole,” James takes a deep breath mid sentence. “bottle.”

“Oh my god,” your eyes wide at the older boys standing. “he’ll be puking all night.”

“Maybe not..”

Your face drops into your hands exhausted. “Puking Pastilles all over again.”

“M’sorry.” James moans under you. “M’so sorry, lovely.”

“That was so stupid.” You scold lightly, hand coming down to flatten over his collar bones. “So, so, so, stupid!”

You're ruffled, shaken at the thought of him downing such an expensive, easily tainted, potion.

“Do you listen to everything they tell you to do?”

“No,” he starts slowly.

“Seems like it.” You bristle, pulling him up to sit. You look into his eyes seriously and he shuffles, nervous under your gaze. “Get a mind of your own.”

His fingers twitch at the hem of the dress you’d picked out tonight, squeezing it in his grip, grounding himself in reality. “Yes ma’am.”

Sirius scoffs behind you, shaking his head at Remus who looks equally perturbed at James’ extra affection. Under them, you wrap your arms around his neck surely. Besides the soft sent of sickly sweet potion, he smells of pine and cologne. You let yourself recognize his body is continuing to function as it should. Untouched, mostly, by the yellow inebriant.

“I can’t stand you, do you feel well?”

“I’m feeling better.”

You stick your face in his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“No, I don’t feel well.”

You sigh into him, pressing a kiss into his freckled skin. He won’t sleep on the couch tonight, though you aught to teach him a lesson.

“We’re going home.”

“What?” James frowns. “We only just got here.”

“D’you have another pool to jump in?”

He cringes at the memory of his fireball spree. “Kay, coming.”

You collect your coat and purse as you stand, leaving James to fend for himself behind you. “Felix Felicis isn’t a joke, one wrong tincture of thyme and you’re in St Mungo’s- James, were are your shoes?”

#james potter x you #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james x reader #james potter fic #james x you #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter #james potter comfort #james potter x y/n #james potter x y/n fluff #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x wife!reader #marauders x reader #marauders fluff

3K notes · View notes

idiaa-shroxd · 1 year

Text

THE PREFECT’S CAT CAFE ꒱ ❝ dormleaders. ❞

SUMMARY: after an off-handed comment made by Idia, you find yourself taking what he said into genuine consideration. instead of just bringing some cats into your guest room though, why not find a way to have both cats and profits while being comfy?

warnings; gn!reader x dormleaders. long post. the keep reading line may repeat a bit of text, but please continue reading if it does. inspired by this video. by interacting with this post you agree you’ve read through my navigation and i hold no responsibility for the content you view. part i. part ii. part iii.

PROLOGUE.

“Are you really sure about this, Henchman?” Grim asks, crossing his arms as he huffs, jealousy laced in his voice. He was used to your occasional strange idea, but he considered something to be sincerely wrong with you at the moment if you thought bringing other stray cats into his territory were a smart idea, not to mention the way you were cuddling them and scratching their bellies. Where did you even find this many cats? Did you make a deal with Azul?

Puffing your cheek slightly, you ignore your cat’s comment while putting the collar on the last one. “Do you want to have fancy tuna?” You reply, fixing the collar’s bow as you smile at your hard work. “You’re not believing in me, Grim. This is an untapped market potential, in case you forgot we have a whole dorm here at school dedicated to gamers and introverts practically. And you know what they like? Cats and silence!” You tell him as you look at your array of cats.

You’d found yourself surprised that Professor Trein actually entertained your question if he knew where to find cats on sage island, even more so when Crowley eventually relented to letting you keep a few cats in exchange for not bringing up the fact you’ve been through how many overblots against him for awhile. This was a chance you could not lose. “There’s cat cafe’s in my world with relatively simple rules and a quiet atmosphere. We simply need to make it a reality, and lucky for us we have a magical furniture tool and an investor.” You say, getting up from the chair and walking toward your little notebook to check off another item off the list.

“You have an investor?” He asked, not quite believing you as he raised a brow. Hearing his disbelief you chuckle a little, pointing your pen at a corner of the room to which he jumps in surprise, letting out a shock ‘nyagh!’ “Idia has been here for the past two hours, ever since I told him what I was going to do. I don’t know how or why he has money, but he has it and that’s enough for me.” You say, Grim still surprised he hadn’t notice Idia once in well over two hours. He still wasn’t convinced on your plan, but if it got him tuna and money, your plan surely can’t be that bad?

HEARTSLABYUL. riddle rosehearts.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS.

“Are there any rules I need to follow while I’m here?” Riddle asks, a little antsy as it were his first time in a room with so many cats before. It were against the queen’s rules to bring cats to a formal affair, but this wasn’t too formal, it were a cafe. And you did get explicit permission from the headmage so indulging in you just a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? With a laugh, you point in the direction of one of the walls with the rules on display next to a signed plaque from the headmaster giving his approval to your whims.

“The rules are really simple. No forcing or disturbing the cats, do not go around picking them up, do not let them have your drinks, and refrain from running around and making too much noise. Outside drinks, food, and shoes are not permitted for sanitary reasons. You can only feed the cats treats sold by the prefect or in the gacha machines, and you have to log in which cat you’ve fed to ensure one cat doesn’t get particularly overweight.” You read off the board the rundown as he nodded, determined to follow the rules. As he stepped inside your now transformed guest room, his eyes sparkled as one of the cats immediately begun purring at him. Perhaps a cat cafe truly wasn’t too bad a place.

Riddle was really weary of your little project when you first told him about it. He really stopped lecturing you after you explained you had all the proper permission and even an investor. He had no idea who on campus would help you with this, but after hearing it were Idia he thought that maybe you were actually a bit more serious than he realized about your cat cafe plans. He takes awhile to convince to actually come, but after maybe seeing a picture you text him of the kitties with the caption, “I want Riddle to play with me!” he concedes ever so slightly into your demands.

His eyes light up in genuine happiness as little cats meow at his feet. His only other real experience with cats was Grim as his mother would not let him near them, but now he understands what the appeal to cats is about. They’re all so soft and he may use an occasional toy, but he also gets to hear their affection purrs as they nudge him nearly making him forget why he was so angry just ten minutes prior when he was collaring a student again. He isn’t a regular since he’s busy, but whenever you happen to ask he tries to make time, only because you’ve asked him to or his dorm members ask him to visit, not because he’s succumbed to being a cat person, he says, lying through his teeth.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) shorthair with pure dark grey fur and orange-yellow eyes. He wasn’t too sure how to act around the cats but this one plopped it’s chubby body onto his lap while nipping at his hand demanding to be pet while meowing right to his face and Riddle could not say no to that face. The cat is not as furry as the others and he quite prefers that, less hair to clean off of his clothes. He thought he would of preferred a less demanding cat, but Sesame is very calming and distracting for his anger. He at some point also noticed cat collar’s slightly changing and asked you about it.. and you found a gift from him, more specifically Sesame received a gift. His previous yellow collar replaced with a higher quality rose-red collar with white outlines of rose petals engravings. Now instead of a silent bell he had a rose attached to the front of the collar, and at the back of the collar was a bow designed to resemble leaf petals.

Absolutely plays favorites, he’s still a bit weary for long haired cats to approach him but won’t tell them to go away, and he always feels guilty if he pets a cat that is not Sesame. He would be willing to buy cat popsicles and cat treats on occasion but tries not to overly them as he knows you’re trying to not get them to be overweight and stay within a healthy range. He’s also able to get some work done when he visits, though not too often as his cat takes up most of his time and does not like him to share his attention with his paperwork, deliberately plopping down onto the paper if he deems he has not received enough attention. You could probably get away with asking him a single stupid question while he is relaxed. Only one, so use that question wisely.

Overall is a good guest since he keeps quiet to himself and his cat, and if he’s talking he’s really quiet about it since he respects your rules. He follows every single one to heart, not only that but also makes sure other guests are taking it to heart as well.

SAVANACLAW. leona kingscholar.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR.

“Shut up, herbivore.” The beastmen hissed as you tried to hide your overly smug expression. “I haven’t even said anything yet, Kingscholar.” You tease as he opens one of his eyes and snarls at you in a nonthreatening manner, one hand running through his hair as the other runs his fingers through the fur of the sleeping cat on his chest, unable to stop you from taking pictures without disturbing said cat.

“Aren’t you two adorable?” You can’t help but snicker as you snap another photo of the annoyed beastman. You were definitely going to post this on your magicam story when you were free. Distracted by your phone, you fail to notice his ears twitching ever so slightly as he looks away from you, his face just a little bit darker in color than before as he shuts his eyes, going back to sleep.

Leona had no interest in being friendly with a bunch of strays you brought in from who knows where. He actually laughed in your face the first time you offered him some coupon to your cat cafe, he had no interest being near rowdy students. That was until he had the most annoying day alive, a conversation twice with Malleus in a single hour and he used you as his stress relief, nearly knocking you onto the floor as he plopped onto you after following you into your cat cafe.

No one else was there as you hadn’t opened, and he understood the appeal. The room wasn’t overcool with regulated temperatures perfect for a cat, with dim lighting and soft music. You even had different parts of your cafe for different guests as you place him onto one of the longer sofas, finally getting him off of you as you poor him a drink and listen to his complaint. At some point he had a group of cats just laying on him and purring against him and snuggling and he’s fallen asleep, not waking up until you inform him you’re closing for the night, and not to move too abruptly with the cat still sleeping on his chest.

His favorite cat had claimed him during their first fateful encounter, being a persian breed. The cat is very fluffy with creamy white fur and golden eyes, enjoying swaying her tail against Leona’s nose and kneading at his chest, arms, feet, wherever she gets her paws on. She does not enjoy being disturbed but does enjoy the occasional pet and spends most of her time just napping with Leona and pawing at him. He claims the cat is noisy every once in awhile but he can be seen petting her with one hand as the other shields his eyes as he lays down, letting her purr against him. He flat out told you he was replacing her stupid black collar with a new one, a brown silk collar that’s just a tad bit loose, with a few golden engravings and a beautiful bow on the back in a lighter brown and golden moons. Nebula also gets cat popsicles every once in awhile that he gets Ruggie to buy from you.

He is used to a bunch of different cats crawling over him as they seem to naturally approach him, and he’s very smug about that to Malleus, but he does have his favorite. Nebula is his number one cat and he will pick her up even though you have a no disturbing the cats rule and he will place her beside him as he has a drink as he lays down in his unofficial spot while she climbs atop him and goes to take a nap. He’s not jealous but he just does not allow other people to touch his cat is all. Whenever you come over to bring him a drink he’s trying to pull you down and shamelessly puts an arm around you as you ignore his clinginess and return back to your cats and cafe. May use a cat toy on occasion but not when you are watching because you get a stupid grin and ask him if he feels like pawing at the toy and he tries not to leave you on a street corner.

Overall a horrible guest but a decent guest. He definitely does not follow every rule and acts grumpy but he’s very quiet except the occasional snore. He will also take a very long time to leave because you need to scratch his ears because he’s not “fully awake”. But in terms of cat parenting he’s a pretty good guest.

OCTAVINELLE. azul ashengrotto.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO.

“So… do you still want to complain?” You ask, raising a brow as you stare at the bespectacled boy with a smug grin. He swore that there was zero charm to a cat cafe and that you stole his business from him just two weeks ago, but now he had a cup of coffee between his fingers sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, a purring cat on his lap with documents on the table spread out as he worked. Azul’s face flustered a slight tint of red as he let out a small cough much to your and the twin’s amusement.

“That was the past, prefect. We found a way to make this arrangement mutual benefitting now, no need to bring up old problems.” He tries to sound professional as you snicker. Two weeks ago was not really a distant past, but you did work thing out. “Whenever you want a refill just let me know, I’ll leave you guys alone for now, I’ve got more to do.” You say, deciding not to tease the octomer further as you retreat back into the kitchen, leaving him to be teased by his two ‘friends’.

Azul had stormed into your establishment one day with a single goal in mind, to figure out how you had stolen his business. He came perplexed, how were you allowed cats on campus? Where did you get the money for renovation? Who was your supplier? Most importantly why did everyone favor the prefect’s cat cafe over the Monstro Lounge with quality service and quality food?

He had sat you down trying to be scary but you ended up putting him. You had offered him a proposal of a collaboration. If anyone orders a special item off the Monstro Lounge menu that day before coming into your cafe they’d be eligible to receive a little something from your cafe for free such as a cat popsicle or an extra thirty minutes added onto their time. He was weary at first but people came to the Monstro Lounge as though they were giving away free money as they came in groups. You both benefitted from this as you did not want food near your kitties that weren’t for them as that posed health and safety issues. He doesn’t know how but he also finds himself on occasion coming to your cafe during breaks as it was surprisingly calming despite his absolute hatred for these innocent cats when he originally entered.

His favorite cat is a Queendom of Roses (British) longhair with dark orange-esque fur with a fluffy white front and light blue eyes. He has no clue as to how but somehow this cat became his favorite as he purred against Azul’s shoes, nudging at him before eventually crawling into his lap. The cat makes little disturbance as Azul works, the purring soothing the octomer as he finishes up, occasionally finding his sleeves being tugged at when Butterscotch declares he’s been working enough by demanding pats. Butterscotch has also found himself on the end of receiving a lot of cat popsicles recently, and a collar upgrade. His collar went from a plain leathery texture to some high quality collar blue collar with tentacle engravings, and a sea patterned bowtie at the front of the collar, the center being a pretty shell.

He entertains other cats but keeps an eye out for his favorite, always reserving his lap space just for him. He mainly spends his time at the cafe after a large rush or when he has time off to work in the silence with his cat instead of the silence of his office. He actually finds himself working a lot faster in your cafe than all alone and he gets free refills on his coffee, so technically he is profiting than if he used his own supply, he justifies to himself. When he finishes work he may on occasion be found talking to you attempting to flirt poorly as you remain oblivious as he has no interest in manga or gaming. May occasionally be found brushing his favorite kitty’s fur and telling him he is going to become fat like he once was then still feeding him the treat regardless because he is very polite.

Overall is a very good guest as long as he has his kitty. Gets a bit antsy if he has to spend his time without his favorite as though he had been replaced but does not cause a scene or whine. Please make sure before you close he gets to squish his cat’s paw and knows he has not been replaced with a different cat dad.

SCARABIA. kalim al-asim.

KALIM AL-ASIM.

“Aha, prefect! Could I have another cat treat, please?” Kalim pleaded with you as you shake your head, doing your best at giving the puppy eyed dorm leader a firm no. He already had two today, that was enough. “But look at Taffy, she’s starving!” He says as you raise a brow, staring at the cat that was getting plumper by the day.

“Kalim, I love you like my actual child but no more. She’s even eating the other cat’s leftovers now at lunch time.” You scold the boy as he apologizes and pleads he will stop after maybe just one more treat as you sigh, putting your foot down and eyeing Jamil pleadingly who only pretends he can’t see you as he plays with his cat. “I’ll even pay four times the amount!” He said, pouting as you shook your head, ready to dive into the same discussion you’ve had with him the past three days.

Two hours, that is how long it took for Kalim to hear about your business venture and ask, beg, you to let him see. Apparently Idia had told Ortho who told the board game club members and word got around to Cater and Cater told him and Lilia and now he was bouncing off the walls in excitement with Jamil in tow. He was already prepared to meet the kitties and Jamil said it was okay so could you please go now? When he hears that there’s rules to follow he listens intently and follows them as best as he can remember, but he’s just so excited about the cats and trying your drinks! Also looking at the interior and more. Wait you also have gaming pcs and manga? He has to check those out too! His hyperactiveness could not be contained and you were a little concerned for the cats.

You were right to assume Kalim could not be contained for more than two seconds as he pspspspss at all of the kitties, toy in both hands as he was already playing with them, cats crawling on his lap and nudging at him, biting at him playfully and surrounding him as he held a cat popsicle out towards them, talking your’s and Jamil’s ears off about how fluffy and wonderful of a place this is. He had to tell every single person in his dorm about it, and his family, and people from other dorms as well, this was the greatest place on campus so far! Do you also need help buying the cat food or anything? He’d be willing to be another investor in a heartbeat but Jamil talks him out of it, partially. His favorite thing is official a cat in his lap as he drinks your own tea brew that he gifted you from his country… which may cost more than your entire life.

His favorite cat is a maine coon with black fur and green eyes. This cat has the world’s finest at her fingertips if she just meows. Kalim knows it’s wrong to pick favorites but he can’t deny that she is his favorite when she headbutts his chin and meows at him for minutes at a time even if he’s petting her. She’s extremely fluffy and starting to become pudgier but he doesn’t mind that as he gets her more treats. Her pink collar has long since been discarded as she now has a full wardrobe, but her collar is now the finest white silk and handmade embroidery with real gemstones and solid gold for the silent bell. Even the bow on the back of the collar is large and beautiful, she’s worth more than the students that actually visit the cafe and you hope you aren’t robbed.

Kalim does play favorites but also doesn’t. Things are very clear he has a favorite cat but he will play with any and every cat that approaches him. He respects your do not disturb the cat rule, really, but he just really wants to pet every single kitty. He always says he wants to try one of the pcs but ends up forgetting as he works on his homework failing to pay attention while petting Taffy and giving her kisses and then eventually falling asleep because he’s all tired out. He has read a few of the mangas but he reads it to Taffy specifically and Jamil has to remind him to be quiet for your other guests. He may have also asked his family to visit your cafe so you may be visited by one of the world’s richest couple in the future when the campus opens for outside guests.

Overall a great guest for the cats but a nightmare for you as he looks like a sad puppy when you refuse to let him buy treats. Also occasionally forgets and makes a loud noise when he enters and sees his favorite cat, and he can be a little distracting because he can’t sit still for too long at times.

POMEFIORE. vil schoenheit.

VIL SCHOENHEIT.

“When in Twisted Wonderland did this happen..?” You mutter to yourself as you brewed another cup of tea for Vil using the brand he specifically gave you for himself when he visited. He was adamantly refusing to even set foot in your guest room after hearing what you had done, but now Rook was taking a photo of him elegantly sitting down in one of your lounge chairs with a cat on his lap, purring loudly looking at the camera as though she understood how to pose and was a natural born model.

You bring the tea over to his table as he thanks you, lifting the cup and saucer elegantly as Rook takes a photo, already singing praises on how great it would look on his magicam as Vil looks confidently smug. You couldn’t believe this all happened just because Rook had said something about Neige and how cute it would be for a boy like him to be surrounded by cats. “Thank you for your patronage.” You say with a small smile on your lips, amused. Well at least a happy Vil is free promotion for your business on campus.

Vil was happy for you, really, but he was not going to visit the cat cafe even if you pleaded by his feet and rose someone from beyond this mortal realm to drag him in. That was until he heard Rook talking to you and Epel about how Neige would surely be so beautiful surrounded with cats and you agreeing and throwing in a comment about how it would make him seem more likeable and relatable. He knew Rook was a Neige fanboy but he couldn’t have you converting into one too, are you forgetting he’s the fairest of them all, and the only celebrity you should praise like that? If it is relatability you truly desire he can spare one afternoon at your cat cafe since he needs to check up on the place his dorm members have been spending their time at recently to ensure it is up to Pomefiore standard.

He originally looked as though he was going to fight one of the cats with how he was trying to mentally tell the long haired cats to stay away from him. He was so intimidating to even the cats that none were willing to approach him but one, a very snooty girl that begun pawing at his ankles, jumping up into his lap and kneading him as she claimed her seat. He found her demeanor pleasantly charming as she wasn’t that furry and she was good enough, he thought. He managed to get some high quality photos that did trend on magicam for the rare domestic sight of the Vil Schoenheit and a cat. It was surprisingly soothing for him and he did eventually come back where the cat once again claimed him as her’s.

His favorite cat is a siamese with cream white fur and black siamese patterns and bright blue eyes. She’s rather thin and does not shed fur all over his lap like some of the other cats. He makes sure to keep her fur shiny as he brushes her down and uses some toys on her. He refrains from often buying treats as she doesn’t seem fond of them and he doesn’t want her to be too overfed, a model should keep a strict diet. Her collar was replaced without even informing you, the old white one did not fit his or apparently her standard so he simply had to replace it for her. It was a pretty fancy dark blue color with golden engravings in the pattern of pomefiore’s insignias, a purely custom design, with a pretty bow in front, with a silent bell. It’s hard to believe she was ever a stray at one point.

He does not entertain most of the other cats beyond looking at them as he pets Iris. He knows his cat is a complete snob and will likely not entertain other guests, perched up high in her cat tree bed until he comes along so he would never cheat on her with being another cat’s dad. He has full faith that he is the only one that she will ever go to so he does try to stop by every once in awhile to make sure she’s getting the attention and grooming that is needed for a cat of her standard. He’s not into your gaming pcs or your manga corners, but does appreciate you do have school textbooks to borrow and a quiet study nook so that he can elegantly pet Iris with a cup of fine tea while doing his assignments as Rook fawns over them.

Overall a very good guest as long as you leave him alone. Follows your rules, does not talk loudly or much, and goes above and beyond with taking care of your cat that you begin to think it’s actually his cat he’s just letting you keep. You’re a little concerned he may just tell you he’s taking your cat with him once you graduate, but he is a rather good cat dad, at least!

IGNIHYDE. idia shroud.

IDIA SHROUD.

“I-di-a” You coo, bending down and whispering in the ear of the man currently on the floor, two cats surrounding him as he feeds them cat treats. The blue haired boy physically jolts upwards letting out a small whimper of utter shock of being spoken to as you chuckle. “Are you having fun?” You ask as he blushes, looking away from you as he turns his attention back to the cat pawing at his pant leg. “Ehehe, this is even better than watching the series finale to an anime live.” He whispers as one of the orange kitties crawls into his arms, headbutting him.

“You flatter me, glad to know you think so highly of my hard work. Ahem, our hard work.” You say as you pick up the other kitty, fixing their collar as you lightly run your fingers through the cat’s fur. Giving the cat a kiss to his nose and boop, you set him back down as you notice Idia staring at you only to blush insanely red as he looked away quickly from being caught. “Thank you for your hard work… prefect.” He quickly whispers much to your amusement.

Idia has become the number one patron. From the second class ends to the time you close for the evening Idia is right there petting the kitties. He’d actually volunteered to work for free, not as a waiter or anything but as a sort of cat playmate. He’d make sure the cats are satisfied and not bored and no one can touch him or look at him, but you said no, he needs to share the cats.

He’s the reason your wifi is amazing despite your run down dorm, and he makes sure absolutely everything regarding technology is perfect. It took him a bit to understand what you want and why that was necessary beyond you just saying cat cafes in your world have these things, but he understands what bliss is now. Anytime some machine seems even remotely broken he fixes it at a record pace.

His favorite cat had claimed him awhile back. A pure white ragamuffin that is extremely fluffy. The cat is extremely docile and she’d claim her spot in his lap, purring as he’d read manga or play on one of the cafe pcs, occasionally nibbling his finger when he squirms too much from gamer rage. Her original collar was a nice shade of orange, but he not so subtly changed it into one he got. A pretty light baby blue shade with small jewel engravings, a little silent bell at the front with a pretty bow on the back with golden stripes. You are partially convinced he genuinely does believe Ivory is his firstborn child.

He does play with other cats but has a favorite. He always pays for one cat popsicle a day at minimum to feed the cats and pays for other cat treats whenever he can because he is weak. He also is rigged at crane games so he can easily snack through the day never leaving the cafe. There are occasions you tell him stop feeding human snacks to the cat, they will get chubby. He ends up looking super offended on behalf of the kitties you dare said any one of them are chubby. When he’s not pampering the cats you can find him gaming in one of the pcs, grinding through an event. At moments like these do not approach him and leave him alone so he can forget he is actually in public and not his bedroom.

Overall a very respectful guest. He’s quiet, makes sure to respect the boundaries of the cats and the rules you’d set up, and does not cause any scenes. The only issue is getting him to leave may be a little difficult as he tries to give one more kiss… Or that he tries to come on your days off just to keep the little babies company. there’s also the occasion every so often that you can feel his gaze on you, only for you to catch him as he hides his face, the tips of his hair turning pink as he watches you work.

DIASOMNIA. malleus draconia.

MALLEUS DRACONIA.

“Child of man, could I please have one of those.. cat ice creams I believe they’re called?” Tsunotarou asked, eyes sparkling ever so slightly in childlike wonder as you let out a charming laugh, handing him a popsicle that was specifically made for cats to eat. He had always been fond on ice cream but now he had the ability to share it with someone else he liked, the cat that had claimed him a few weeks ago.

“Just one though, we don’t want to feed them too much now.” You say but know it will fall on deaf ears as you didn’t wish to ruin his fun. You didn’t think he had experience with cats before so you were pleasantly surprised one of your cats had practically claimed him, but it all worked out. “Worry not child of man, I won’t give him too many treats. Though I’m sure if I too were eating your cooking right now I wouldn’t be able to stop myself either.” Flustered by his comment, you leave him to play with the cat as you retreat behind the counter, he really was dangerous for reasons different than rumors.

He heard about your business venture from Lilia and was ready to pay a visit not caring if he scared off your guests but halted in his tracks when he heard you telling Sebek you were going to invite him. His mind tells him he has won the lottery and he retreats to fix his outfit waiting in the lounge for an hour until you reach Diasomnia’s doorsteps to speak with him. He is not listening as you greet him with a hug and tell him you’d like for him to come to Ramshackle for a surprise. Something about you also not opening the cafe today so it’d just be you and him so he’d be comfy, there’s really no reason to try and continue speaking he’s been charmed for over an hour, prefect.

He practically vibrates from sheer joy as he’s frozen, then rapidly shaking, then beaming as a cat waltzes up to him as though he owns the prince. He basically blue screens momentarily as the cat with such soft fur and pure innocent eyes meows up at him, pawing at his feet to be picked up. He picks up the cat as you watch curiously, finally figuring out he wasn’t listening to you at all as he stares at the cat’s eyes and then your’s. “Our child is beautiful.” He says as you raise a brow, shrugging it off as you tell him you’d brew him a black coffee and to sit wherever he would like. He instead chooses to sit at the counter bar, watching you and the cat that’s on his lap nipping at his fingers and demanding his attention as well. For the first time in awhile he feels as though something doesn’t fear him other than you.

His favorite cat is a ragdoll cat with white fur and black splotches and deep blue eyes. He claims this cat is your child and you have no idea what he’s thinking of but he seems happy as he shamelessly pulls out a cat toy and plays with him. Also slightly insults the cat by calling him brave or stupid as though a cat can comprehend what he means while mewling at him. Also asks you if he can also have a custom collar after Lilia tells him about his cat, and after you allow him to replace the old red collar he’s excited. Black is the color of royalty in the briar valley and Oatmeal has the privilege of wearing it on his new collar. A pretty black collar with green wings beside a silent bell that may be made of actual gold, along with a little dragon hood-cape and short plush horns you got him so your boys match.

Very possessive of Oatmeal. He will applaud other cats if they dare approach him but everyone knows he has a bias. He practically has been claimed by his cat and no one else is brave enough to go near his cat and no cat is brave enough to approach him, they are a perfect match. He has tried to take your cat back to Diasomnia but you have to remind him that the cat stays with you, he needs a proper schedule, friends, and he needs to stop being fed so many treats. He’s also incredibly smug about it and will come to the cafe on your off days as he talks to you petting Oatmeal and glaring at Leona on the opposite couch who’s busy petting Nebula but refrains from getting physical or suffer your wrath. You’d kicked both men out for an entire weekend.

Overall a good guest personally, but his reputation may cause some people to be scared of visiting. Regardless, he’s very polite to you and treats his cat very good, making sure to give him treats and enough exercise with a toy. May also overpay for coffee and start fights with Leona when you aren’t even open yet. In fact, how on earth did the two of them even get into your cafe? You literally just woke up and they’re spitting insults at one another.

EPILOGUE.

“Fnaygh! I guess I really am a business genius, Henchman.” Grim said as he dug into a can of fancy tuna, one that you had bought without having to worry about your budget for once. You expected success from Ignihyde students, but it seemed like your little business venture went above and beyond with students from all different dorms trying to be booking ahead of time and trying to visit your cat cafe.

“Right right, you’re the genius, Grim.” You laugh in response to your friend as you finished checking on the other cats, finishing up for the evening. In terms of profit, almost every single day you were fully packed with as much people you’d allow in at once, and you had to temporarily increase the charging rates. Despite the increase people still begun to visit, who knew the school filled with villainous kids would be so excited to pet some cats? Especially your regulars, they adored these cats enough they got the cats gift, not you, but the cat.

It was tough work to manage the guest room cafe all by yourself though, you had to admit to yourself. Perhaps you should take up Ace’s offer and idea at hiring some part time employees, your first year friends had already offered, so maybe you’d start training them for help?

a bit of a long post but i have had this thought for awhile ever since reading Idia’s guest room lines? So I figured I would just turn my headcanon into an actual written work. I have more ideas though for a separate post, but I am unsure if I’ll post it, but I do need to share my thought’s of Floyd’s favorite cat being a sphynx cat named prune that is very vocal and has a cozy ugly little sweater that Floyd likes to bathe with you.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

4K notes · View notes

swampjawn · 2 months

Text

God I love animation. I love it for the way it can bring anything to life beyond the constraints of boring ol' reality, but also the ways that it's inextricably linked to, and draws on the conventions of live-action film-making.

So fuck it, let's look at how Hayao Miyazaki straight up copies some camera framing techniques from his predecessor and the other most influential Japanese filmmaker of all time, Akira Kurosawa! (Kurosawa really was the master of framing scenes around his characters, so he's a great source of inspiration)

(btw, this is a screenshot from this TV special where the two met for the first time just after the release of Kurosawa's final film. It's pretty interesting, and also very cute how nervous Miyazaki seems to be to meet one of his idols.)

Specifically, how the two each choose to break the 180 degree rule (well, not technically 'break' in the case of Kurosawa) to show their protagonists' changing destiny in "Throne of Blood" and "Princess Mononoke".

For anyone who doesn't know, the 180 degree rule is a basic film-making rule of thumb which states that in any scene where two characters interact, you should draw an imaginary line between them and the camera should always stay on one side of that line.

("In the Mood for Love" - Wong Kar-wai)

This way, one character is always looking to the right of the camera, the other is always looking to the left, and the audience doesn't get confused by the geography of the scene. Crossing this line can be disorienting, but when done intentionally, it can convey a paradigm shift of some kind in the scene.

In this scene from "Throne of Blood," (a feudal Japanese retelling of Macbeth) Washizu's wife Asaji discusses tactics with him and tries to convince him to aspire to the throne and to assassinate his lord Tsuzuki while he sleeps.

As two servants appear to notify them that Washizu's sleeping quarters are prepared, the camera dollies left and around the characters' backs. This camera movement is motivated by the motion of the servants' torches outside the room, but it also signifies a change in Washizu's outlook.

Washizu is completely silent for most of this scene, contemplating his wife's advice. But as the camera slides behind his back and across the line of action, the scene is now re-framed, illustrating his change in perspective.

He's been convinced and the trajectory of his life is about to change - and now, facing away from the camera, is the time for action.

Because the camera slides smoothly across the line, Kurosawa isn't technically breaking the 180 degree rule. Miyazaki on the other hand, takes it a little further.

The complimentary scene in Princess Mononoke comes near the start when the wise woman of the village reads Prince Ashitaka's fortune after he's cursed by the wild boar spirit. She tells him that it is his fate to leave the village and travel to the west, where he may be able to lift the curse on his arm. The trajectory of Ashitaka's life changes in this moment too. As he accepts his fate, the change is symbolized by him cutting off his hair, but also by the camera jumping the line.

Throughout this dialogue scene and even as he cuts his hair, the simulated camera sits just slightly to the side of Ashitaka's left shoulder.

But once it's done, for the final shot, the scene is reframed and we jump to the other side, where Ashitaka is now looking to the right of the camera instead of the left.

Making the camera dolly across a scene like Kurosawa's version in 2D animation is no simple task, so this transition with a simple cut is in a way subtler, in another way a bit more jarring, but it conveys the same meaning.

This is the moment when our protagonists make the choice to embark on a new destiny and re-frame their lives.

This has been an excerpt from a short video essay I made a while back, which not many people watched. I think this is at least in part due to my failure to package it well, and it seems you tumblheads like this animation/cinematography analysis stuff, so this is an experiment to see if, with the help of y'all, and a new title and thumbnail, it's at all possible to give this video a second wind in the eyes of the Youtube Gods!

So if you found this interesting, I'd appreciate if you checked it out! Thanks for reading!

youtube

#Also i spent a lot of time on the little animated bit at the start so please watch it lol #animation analysis #mini essay #video #video essay #princess mononoke #throne of blood #hayao miyazaki #akira kurosawa #Youtube #gif warning

1K notes · View notes

danveration · 3 months

Text

Darling, angel, sweetheart

Parings: Valentino x female!reader

Summary: You’re not in the “mood” but Valentino, being who he is, tries to coax you into having sex. And it’s hard to resist him. !THIS IS SMUT!

Warnings: Nsfw themes, 18+, dub/con, manipulation, k*lling, smoking, being taking advantage of, virginity mention, power imbalance, forced blowjobs, p in v sex, creampie, missionary position, neck biting, kissing/making out/french kissing, slight innocent reader, reader having a stuffed animal, cuddling, sleeping

A/N: UMMMM? FIRST SMUT FIC IVE EVER WRITTEN. KINDA NERVOUS!!! SORRY IF ITS ALL OVER THE PLACE 😭😭😭

You and Valentino had a complicated relationship. You wouldn’t say you’re “together” per-say, but you wouldn’t say that you aren’t. He makes it aware that he sleeps with other people from time to time, and that he actively flirts with people. But he promises that it’s only for business. To get more costumers and porn stars, to up his reputation.

You don’t live with him but you’re over at his place more than you are at your own house. He likes it when you’re always around him. Holding his hand, sitting in his lap, or under his desk while he’s in meetings or doing paper work, etc. You’re drawn to him like a moth is at light, which is ironic. He loves you, so much so that it doesn’t matter what he does in his spare time.. because he does always come back to you in the end. He loves you and you love him back.

You’re more of a shy, innocent, naïve thing. Valentino noticed that right away when meeting you. You were a virgin before he met you, but obviously not anymore. He took that from you the first night be met you. Though you’d never think you’d lose your virginity at such a fast pace.. there is just something about him that made you cave in. May it be his flirty nature, or his gentle touches.. whatever it is, you’re a fool for it.

———————————————————————

You’re currently laying in his bed, yawning and clutching into your stuffie. Today was a long day, all you want to do is cuddle up to Val and go to sleep.

You’re impatiently waiting for him to come in the room. You remember him mentioning how he has to shoot extra long tonight. He sounded frustrated about it, cursing under his breath.

You’re just about to doze off when Valentino bursts into the room loudly, the door hitting the back of the wall when he comes in, making you jump in fear.

“Fucking BITCHES!” He yells, his accent coming through. Slamming the door closed, he goes to light his cigarette while mumbling curse words under his breath.

He’s wearing his heart glasses, his red hat with the black and white feather, a black dress shirt that’s mostly un-buttoned with his gold chain, and white pants with a gold heart belt.

You’re looking at him concerned, you’ve never seen him lash out like this before. He’s always been kind and sweet. Little do you know he only wanted you to see that part of him, not wanting to scare you away too quickly. He’s done things you’ve not noticed, like that one time where a man was hitting on you in front of him. He said you were taken and then proceeded to bring you to the other room, telling you to wait there while he makes a phone call. Which in reality, he went back to that man and shot him in the head. Coming back to tell you it went well and that he loves you.

“Val?” You speak out, looking up at him.

He whips his head over to you and breathes out.

“Sorry you had to see that, sweetface. Just some fuckers who think they can talk back to me. Me! Can you believe that?” He says, shaking his head.

He looks away from you and sighs.

“It doesn’t matter though, does it? They’re dead now so there’s no need to stress.” He laughs.

You know he does bad things, even though he tries to hide it. You’re not blind. But you still like him nonetheless.

He stretches and moans, bending his head back and shifting his arms. He looks back at you and smiles.

“Hi, sweetface. How’re you feeling, hm? All tired and ready for bed?” He asks.

“Mhm, I’m feeling good, just sleepy.” You answer.

“Ah good, good. Let me join you.” He walks over to you, with a glint in his eye.

He looks at you seductively, eyeing you up and down. While you on the other hand, are looking at your stuffie with tired eyes.

“Baby.” He says to you.

You perk up and look at him.

“Hm?” You say.

He feels himself get hard. It was a long day today and he needs some relief. Who better to give him that than his best girl? He closes his eyes and breathes in, then opening his eyes and looking down at you.

“I need your help with something. You think you can help me, baby?” He says in a mischievous tone.

You’re just so sleepy that you mumble, “What is it?”

“Well, my love. I’m feeling a bit pent up.” He answers you with a smile, his red eyes glowing through his glasses.

You look up at him with a frown.

“Val, I’m just tired. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” You ask him.

Valentino’s brows go down and he answers you in an angry tone.

“Darling, angel, sweetheart. Out of alll these other bitches, I choose you to fuck. And you refuse me? Do you know how fast I can get a replacement of you? I can go down the hall and fuck the first person I see and they’d be thankful!” He yells at you.

You didn’t expect him to react this way. Maybe it’s just the long day getting to him. You shrink under his words, looking down.

“I’m sorry, Valentino.” You mumble.

He squints his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his body.

“Better be. Now, what do you say?” He asks you.

You’re pretty tired but you don’t exactly have a choice.

“I guess I can help..” You answer, still looking down.

“Ah, good! Good girl.” He says, walking over to the side you’re laying on. Standing beside you as you’re laying down, he tells you to look up at him.

Sitting up on the bed, you look up and make eye contact with him.

“See how hard and aching I am for you?” He says, gesturing towards his clothed cock that’s straining his pants.

You look down and see his cock imprint, outlining his white pants. Against your will, you feel yourself throb.

“V-val. I don’t-“ You say.

“Shhh, angel.” He interrupts you.

He puts his cigarette down on the side table and goes take your small hand and press it on his clothed cock.

It’s warm and you can feel it throbbing. You go to pull your hand away, your cheeks reddening.

He holds your hand tighter and forces it there.

“Feel that, baby?” He asks you seductively.

This is usually how sex with Val goes. You aren’t feeling it but he makes you feel it. You never thought it was wrong, it’s just.. you changing your mind with time.

“Mhm.. I feel it.” You answer him, blushing.

“Fuuck.” He moans as he grinds into your hand for a few minutes.

“God damn it.” He bites his lip and removes your hand to unbuckle his belt.

You look down at his big hands as they swiftly take his belt off. His hard cock springs out, as he almost never wears underwear. The only time is does is when he wears revealing outfits.

He takes your chin in one of his hands and makes you look up at him again.

“Suck it.” He whispers.

You whimper and look ahead, his cock facing you.

Giving it a lick on the tip, Valentino grunts.

“I can’t fucking take this.” He says, taking your head with his hands and forcing your mouth to take his whole cock.

Gagging, you try to pull back but Val just keeps your head there and starts thrusting into you.

“F-fucking take it.” He says, slightly smiling.

You’re whimpering and moaning, trying to breathe through your nose.

He lets go of your head, pushing you back. You gasp for air and Val laughs at you.

“We’re gonna have to work on throat training.” He comments.

You whimper.

“Val I-“

“Take off your fucking clothes.” He commands you, as he starts stroking his cock with one hand.

You move to take them off, listening to his command. After you’re fully naked, you look at him for guidance on what to do next.

“Goood girl.” He smiles at you, tilting his head.

He tells you to lay down on your back as he gets on top of you. After doing so, he starts kissing you.

Val was the one who taught you french kissing. You never really knew the whole point of it before him. It just seemed awkward. Swishing your tongue around in someone’s mouth. But after him, you understand how it’s so appealing.

He reaches his hand down to touch you, seeing how wet you are.

“Mmm, there you go.” He says as he feels you dripping on his hand.

He rubs his cock onto your pussy, collecting juices onto his tip.

“My favourite toy.” He mumbles.

You whimper as your tummy starts to hurt from being so turned on. Val laughs at you and whispers into your ear, “I’m going to fucking wreak you.”

He slides his cock into you slowly, hissing at how tight and wet you are.

You moan at how good he makes you feel. He always feels so full inside of you.

He looks at you and starts thrusting harder.

“F-fuck sakes.” He says. “You’re gripping me so tight.”

He holds onto your shoulders as he roughly pounds into you over and over and over again.

Each time, your body shakes and you let out a whimper.

“V-Valentino.” You moan.

“Yes, baby. Say my fucking name.” He growls.

You clench around him and he starts going faster.

After a little while of beating your pussy with his cock, his thrusts start to get sloppier. At that exact time, you feel yourself getting close.

“V-Val, I- I’m-“ You stutter out.

“Y-Yeah I know. I can feel it, fuck. I’m close too, baby. I’m so fucking close.” He says, going in and out of you. “You’re such a good toy for me, you know that? Suuch a good girl. Such a good fucking girl.” He grunts.

“Val.. I- I’m gonna-“

“Me too, god. I’m gonna cum inside this pussy. All inside of you.” He thrusts into you one more time and then he goes as deeply as he can into you, letting out all is cum deep inside you.

You come at that exact same time, immediately as you feel his warm seed inside you. You feel claimed by him, physically and emotionally.

He thrusts once more, letting it all out inside you.

He bites your neck, kissing it after doing so.

You feel the tiredness from before hit you like a wave.

He positions himself to look at you, smirking.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Mm.” You mumble.

He pulls out of you slowly and looks down, his cum dripping out of you. He licks his lips at the sight.

Looking back up, he decides that he is also tired now and says, “I guess we can sleep now, ma chérie.”

You blink slowly at him, your eyelids feeling heavy.

“Sleep time?” You mumble.

“Sleep time, my love.” He lays next to you, putting the covers over him and you.

He sees your stuffie on the other side of the bed and reaches for it, handing it to you.

“I think you forgot someone.” He says with amusement in his voice.

He will admit, he has a soft spot for you. Just don’t tell anyone, especially the other VVV’s, they’ll probably tease him about it.

You smile and grab the stuffie. But right now, all you want to do is cuddle him.

“Val?” You say with a questionable tone.

“Hm?” He says tiredly.

“Can.. Can we cuddle, please?” You ask.

He smiles at that and says, “Such a silly question. Of course, sweetheart. Come here.”

You climb onto him, and nuzzle into his chest. You feel like his. His cum dripping out of your hole still, your mind completely full of him.

He wraps all his arms around you, holding you loosely.

“G’night, Val.” You whisper into his neck.

“Goodnight, my little love.” He responds.

640 notes · View notes

captainfern · 11 months

Text

this is a request but i accidentally deleted it 😭

“hi babes. ur work is amazing but im sure you know this. im also sure you have lots of requests so please take your time getting to this one. but I was wonderingggg if you could do one where price is the friend of the readers dad? they've been hooking up in secret for a while but at a little house party, they sneak into someplace private and do the deed. ive seen so many other ffs about this with other characters so ikkkk price would fit this. thank you again <33”

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

Marigold

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

• summary - price is your dads best friend. he asks you to meet him upstairs during a party. you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship? kinda?, unprotected piv, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], fingering, recording [consensual], oral [f!receiving], praise, strong language

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking at yourself in the mirror. You ran your hands down the fabric, smoothing the wrinkles, smiling at yourself. You looked fucking good.

Downstairs, a big neighbourhood party was in full swing— something organised by your father. It was a comfortable get together to unwind before the summer holidays, complete with all of your neighbours from down the street, and even across the block.

The dress you were wearing was new. You brought it recently, actually. You liked to convince yourself you got it because you were treating yourself, but in reality, it may or may not have been a 2am online purchase after a considerable emotional breakdown. But hey, same thing, right?

It was shorter than you thought, mid-thigh, if that. The colour was pretty too, your favourite. It complimented the complexion of your skin, accentuating your figure, showing off a significant amount of leg. You smiled at yourself, doing a quick twirl.

Hot as fuck.

The party was bustling. You had arrived home late, apologising profusely to your dad before rushing upstairs to get ready. So, over the gentle thrum of the music, you weren't surprised to hear your dad call your name, hurrying you to come and greet the guests.

You bounded down the stairs, dress fluttering against your thighs, and made your way into the kitchen. You tried not to feel awkward when copious pairs of eyes turned to look at you as you shuffled towards your dad. He put an arm around your shoulders, holding you to his side for a moment, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

"There you are. Come say hi to everyone."

You did. Humming along to the music as you went, you individually greeted each of the guests. You plastered on your best people-pleasing smile, responding cheerily to the same fifty fucking questions everyone asked you.

How are you? How is work? Have you figured out what you want to do? Any plans for the future? Met anyone special?

By the time you made it to the edge of your living room towards the other side of the house, you felt a headache coming on. So, you excused yourself back into the kitchen to get a large glass of water. Your father was just departing, leading the congregation of neighbours outside. By the smell of it, someone was on the barbecue.

You were left, alone, in the kitchen, nursing a cold glass of water, listening to the music you were skeptical your dad had actually chosen. There were some good songs, surprisingly.

You placed your glass away as your dad walked in, heading for the sink. He wriggled in next to you, rinsing his hands under the water.

"You okay, honey?"

You nodded. "I'm fine."

He smiled at you, drying his hands on a towel nearby. As he did that, the doorbell rung, echoing through the house, just audible over the music.

"Oh, can you get that? I just need to take these outside..." Your dad said, scooping a couple of extra wine bottles off the counter and heading outside.

You walked through the house, heading to the front door. You opened it with a polite smile spread across your features. It drooped slightly, catching sight of the man on your front porch.

"Captain Price." It was meant to be a greeting, but it sounded more as if you were stating a fact.

He offered you a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. He had a bottle of whiskey tucked beneath his arm.

"You just never want to call me by my first name, do you, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you stepped to the side, allowing him entrance.

You blinked after his form— strong, hulking shoulders, a lean abdomen paired with a slight narrow in his waist— as he meandered into the entrance hall.

"John makes you sound old." You quipped as you followed him into the kitchen.

He laughed. "I am old."

"Not that old." You said.

It was somewhat true. He was a similar age to your father, and they were best friends. They'd been in the military together before your dad retired to have a family. Price had always checked in on him, especially when he had time off work. You had known him for a while. Met him a couple of times when you were really young— not that you could remember, anyway— and then you saw him a bit more frequently as you got older. You hadn't seen him for a while up until today. Captain John Price is a busy man.

You felt your body begin to heat up once the pair of you were in the kitchen.

Well, the last time you saw him was a couple of weeks ago, before he was set to be deployed to some foreign country—

"That's it, thaaaat's it, don't talk sweetheart, just take it," Price whispered in your ear, chest pressed to your back. "Don't talk. Just take my cock, there you go. Take it, love. Doing so good for me."

He had you bent over his kitchen counter, his house dark around you, the early hours of the morning apparent by the inky black sky visible out of his windows.

You couldn't talk, even if you tried. You had been trying to whimper to him, moan his name and his rank and tell him what you wanted, but you couldn't get the words out of your mouth. He had left you speechless with the way he continuously hit that spongey spot inside you, making you tighten and gush around him.

Bodies flush together, sweat accumulating between you. Your skin was on fire, hands and tits flush with the cool countertop as he fucked his cock into you, harder and harder, your knees smacking the underside cabinetry. His grip on your hips was vice-like, keeping you steady, his pelvis smacking into your arse.

"S'this my going away present, sweetheart?" He chuckled as you choked on another string of moans caught in your throat. "Fucking perfect. I better get another one once I'm back, yeah?"

You nodded deliriously, finding your voice. "Yes, Price, fuck, I promise, I promise—"

Price cleared his throat, snapping you out of your little flash back. He leaned against the kitchen island, hip bracing against it, having placed the bottle of whiskey down. He folded his arms across his broad chest, arms looking especially good in his black jacket.

"Your dad around?" He asked.

You nodded towards the backyard. "Yeah, he's outside. Did you want me to go get h—?"

You were cut off as Price grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, pressing your body to his. Quickly, he cupped your jaw and placed his mouth to yours, backing your lower back up against the counter. You had your hands against his chest as his tongue slipped into your mouth, one hand on your jaw and the other balled at your hip. He pinched the fabric of your dress between his knuckles, still keeping his fingers tucked into a fist.

Just as you whined into the kiss, your hands travelling upwards, Price stepped back. Commotion outside drew him right across the kitchen as the back door opened and your father came in. You discreetly wiped your face. So did Price.

That was unexpected.

Your dads eyes lit up when he saw Price, and Price smiled at him.

"John! Didn't think you'd make it!" Your dad beamed, pulling Price into a hug.

Price slapped your dad a couple of times on the back before they released each other.

"I flew in last night," Price admitted. "I won't stay long. Just thought I'd pop in and say hi. Oh, I also brought this."

Casually, Price stepped past you and grabbed the bottle of whiskey off of the counter behind you. You breathed in his cologne as he passed the bottle to your dad. You had to force yourself not to close your eyes and whine.

"Jesus, mate, this is an expensive bottle. You shouldn't have."

"No worries, mate. Enjoy it." Price replied.

Your dad turned to you, showing you the bottle, and you had to pretend like it was the coolest thing ever, since your dad seemed absolutely ecstatic.

"You see this, honey? This is good stuff."

"Oh, I bet." You said.

Your dad turned to put the whiskey in a cabinet nearby. When he turned back around, he let his eyes fall on to you, and his gaze softened, a small smile still evident on his face.

"I didn't say earlier, but that's a really nice dress. Nice colour, too. You look beautiful." Your dad said.

You felt your lips quirk at the edges as you hid a bashful smile. "Oh, thanks."

Your dad nudged Price. "It's a nice colour, don't you reckon, John? Reminds me of our deployment in Damascus. Remember? That nice lady selling all those shawls..."

You could tell Price wasn't really listening to your dads military-era story. His eyes were on you. It felt like he was absorbing you whole. Eyes darkening, raking up and down your body, admiring both the dress and the way it clung to you. The pinpoint of his tongue darted across his lips as his gaze travelled upwards from your legs, resting now on your face. You cocked your head at him, ever so slightly, biting your bottom lip for a second. He followed the movement, blinking and looking away, clearing his throat as his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink.

"Yeah, nice colour. Suits you." He grumbled.

After a moment, your dad led Price outside and you watched them go. Your body thrummed in time with the music, buzzing from where Price had touched you just mere minutes ago. You felt warm.

•º•

An hour or so later, the congregation of people had moved back inside, happy and full after the food outside. Darkness had fallen now, music still loud and just slightly vibrating the drinks resting on the counter in front of you.

You were talking with your neighbour, a girl just a few years older than you, who you had known for quite some time. The conversation was actually nice, and you found yourself enjoying it. Until she had to leave, and you were once again left standing alone in the kitchen. Until, of course, Price sidled up beside you, still a respectable distance away.

"Meet me upstairs. Give it a minute, though." Was all he said before he vanished from the room.

No greeting, or small talk. Straight to the fucking point, clearly.

You downed the rest of your drink, letting a good long couple of minutes pass before you decided to head up the stairs. As you ascended, you looked around, seeing no one paying you much attention. Your dad was on the couch, telling a good dozen people one of his usual thrilling stories of his time in the military. You smiled to yourself as you reached the top of the stairs.

You made your way into your bedroom, humming to yourself. You didn't see Price straight away, so you flinched when he slammed the door closed behind you, jamming your desk chair beneath it to keep it locked— it was an old house, with no locks on the bedroom doors— and striding across the room.

You had no time to react as he put a hand to the back of your neck, holding gently but firmly, and pressing your mouth to his. You whined desperately, folding your arms along his shoulders and carding your fingers into his hair, knocking his woollen hat off. He wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth, smoothing it against yours, drawing soft noises from your throat.

He walked you backwards until you both fell against the bed, him overtop of you. He didn't once break the kiss, even when he used one hand to pry your legs apart, forcing them to hook around his hips as he pushed you further onto the bed, crawling after you.

"Missed you." You whispered, pleasure straining each syllable. He had broken away from your mouth, kissing along the curve of your jaw and down the expanse of your throat. He nipped at the soft skin of your neck, licking along your collarbone, still heading southward. He got to the neckline of your dress, pressed taut to the swell of your breasts, rising rapidly as you breathed. He ran kisses along the soft flesh, running his hands up and down your waist, revelling in the softness of the fabric and the warmth of your skin beneath.

"Such a pretty fucking dress," He muttered, teeth skimming the line of the fabric. "Took everything in me not to flip it up and fuck you in it... right there in that kitchen."

He yanked it down, letting your tits spill out before him. With a soft grumble in his throat, he pressed his mouth to your left one, drawing your nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue. He looked up at you whilst he did it, admiring the way your eyes fluttered, struggling to maintain eye contact as the pleasure built.

After a moment, he released it with a slick pop and moved to your right tit, mimicking his earlier actions. You moaned his name, gripping his hair, massaging his scalp. He groaned, mouth wet and hot against your delicate flesh. His hands had moved now— one running up to cup and massage your tits as he sucked, and the other travelling down the length of your body.

Your body hummed in anticipation, tingling as he gently flipped the bottom of your dress up, exposing your underwear. Still sucking kisses onto the mounds of your breasts, he dipped his hand past the hem of your underwear. Two fingers made contact with your slick core, and you arched further into his mouth, moaning loudly.

"Fuck me, you're soaked," Price grunted, releasing your swollen nipple and sitting back on his haunches.

Impatiently, he yanked his hand out of your underwear and ripped them away, the cotton snapping against your thighs, breaking with a loud tear. You whimpered as Price stuffed the material into his jacket pocket, swiftly pushing his fingers back towards your core.

They ran up and down your slit, collecting the excess arousal that was drooling from your cunt. He slowly dragged the digits through your folds a couple of times before he pressed the tips to your clit, drawing tight circles. You gasped, arching for him, moaning his rank as he replaced the two fingers with his thumb. His two fingers were immediately at your dripping entrance, circling.

"So wet, sweetheart. Absolutely dripping," He mused. "What's got you all wet and needy?”

You mewled at him, sensation-overload and he had barely started. Your tits were slick with his saliva, cold in the air of your room. He was still circling your clit, your arousal making his movements audible if you listened hard enough. The music downstairs was dull and echoey, as if you were underwater. Then, his two fingers, the tips barely grazing your soaking hole. You could scream.

"Eh, sweetheart? What's got you soaking your pretty little underwear, hm?" Price asked, still giving your clit attention.

"You." You whine.

"Me?" Price chuckled. "What about me?"

'You're... you're making me wet, Price," you almost sob. "Need you so bad. I missed you."

Price liked that answer, clearly. He pushed two fingers into your cunt, letting out a breathy moan as your silky walls clamped around the digits. You keened, whimpering like some kind of wounded animal as he buried his fingers to the knuckle before dragging them all the way back out. He plunged them in again, and a pace began, almost in time with the base of whatever song was playing downstairs.

"This my welcome home present?" He asked, shoving his fingers repeatedly into your tight cunt, wet sounds reverberating around your bedroom.

You nodded. "Yeah. M-missed you—"

Your lower stomach was tingling, coiling tight. Already? Fucking hell.

"Missed you too, sweetheart," Price leaned up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "Couldn't get this pretty face outta my head. Couldn't get this pretty cunt outta my head, either."

He leaned back, settling on his ankles as he watched his fingers drag in and out of you, coaxing wave after wave of slick from the depths of your cunt. He moaned, really fucking loudly, at the sight.

"Can I... can I take a video?" Price asked, breathless.

You felt yourself burning up, stomach flipping. You nodded, whining a "yeah" as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out his phone. His fingers slowed for just a moment as he readied his phones camera.

"Wish I had a video when I was deployed," he whispered, more to himself than you. "Had to rely on my imagination."

His words made you moan.

"Yeah, just had to remember those pretty sounds you make, and the sight of this pretty cunt stretched out around my cock," He groaned, turning the flash on to combat the hazy lighting in your bedroom. "Came all over my hand imagining it was this cunt 'round my cock."

He hit record as the movements of his finger sped up. You mewled, whining, arching off the bed and pushing your aching core further onto his hand as he fucked his fingers into you, thumb rubbing tightly against your puffy, wet clit. The sounds were obscene, like foley sound effects, soft squelches with each push of his fingers. You could feel your arousal pooling out of you, down the soft skin of your thighs, across the curve of your arse, bleeding into the sheets beneath you. You imagined that Price's hand would be absolutely drenched.

He was making soft, deep noises in the back of his throat, watching his fingers, phone focused on their movements. He flicked his eyes up to your face, not moving the camera though. Your facial expressions were easy to remember— chewing at your bottom lip, slight furrow in your brow, lips puffy and wet with saliva, eyelids fluttering. That was for his mind only.

You moaned, breathy and high-pitched.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"Gonna... gonna cum."

He withheld a moan at the sound of your sweet desperation. It made his cock throb angrily within the confines of his boxers, already painfully hard the moment he had pushed you onto the bed.

"Go on then, pretty girl. Cum 'round my fingers," He muttered, and you did— creaming around him with a violent twitching of your legs, cunt spasming around his fingers in a burst of arousal, splattering up the length of his forearm. He smiled lazily behind his phone, muttering; "That's a good girl."

"Price—!" You cried, halfway between a moan and a sob.

He hit stop, tossing his phone aside and pulling your thighs apart. Nestling himself between them, his breath fanned out across your soaking folds. You tried to lift yourself off the mattress to see what he was doing, but you couldn't. When his warm tongue licked a fat stripe up your sensitive slit, you flopped backwards.

There wasn't as much foreplay as usual… in the sense that Price shoved his tongue directly into your drooling cunt. He ignored your overstimulated clit, probably for the best, as he lapped at the arousal that was still leaking from you. He moaned happily against your folds, nose pressed just below your clit. It nudged the swollen bundle of nerves every few seconds, and it made your hips buck, electricity zapping the base of your tummy.

You had both hands in his hair, pulling him closer and urging him on. You tugged gently at the strands, massaging his scalp, making him grumble appreciatively below you. His hands were hard and warm against your thighs, making you tingle. Your tits were still exposed, the rest of your dress pooling around your waist.

You could still hear the rest of the party happening downstairs. A small jolt of fear passed through you. If anyone— especially your dad— came searching for you, you'd be fucking dead. Whoever it may be, would find you spread out on your back on your bed, legs spread and panting, a man probably more than twice your age between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

The fear turned to thrill, and you released a shaky breath.

Your second orgasm rolled over you quickly, and Price dragged it from you with a moan of your name against your cunt. You keened, uttering a sickly sweet "captain!" before coming in his mouth.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it." He murmured against your folds, sucking up the arousal that pooled at your fluttering hole. It always made you embarrassed, the way he literally talked into your cunt, his words vibrating your core. He groaned again, humping against your bed covers, pressing the outline of his aching cock into your mattress. "Such a good, wet cunt. Tastes fucking divine."

He pulled away. You watched him hazily as he shed his shirt and pants, then his boxers, his hard cock bobbing against his stomach. You salivated at the sight as he gripped himself, moving to scoop some of your arousal into his hand. He coated himself in it, pumping his hard length, eyes raking down your body.

"So beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning over you and kissing you again. His cock settled at your entrance, fat head leaking pre-cum onto your already glistening folds. "Just made for me, weren't you?"

You hummed your agreement, barely able to keep your eyes open. He kissed you again, tongue probing, hot and wet. You whimpered, feeling his tongue skim your bottom lip, drawing further desperate sounds from your panting mouth.

Price cursed. "Fuck. Can I record another video?"

You nodded.

"Words, sweetheart, come on. You should know that."

"Yeah, okay," you said sheepishly. "You can record again."

He kissed your nose, then shuffled back, grabbing his phone as he kneeled between your spread legs. He flicked it to his camera, flash on and hitting record. His phone followed the movements of his cockhead, rubbing up your slit, smearing your arousal. Then, with no warning other than a shallow, animalistic grunt from the depths of his chest, Price pushed his cock into you.

He tried not to cum on the spot at the way you tossed your head back, moaning as your silken walls clamped around his cock. Your fists balled your sheets, twisting, as you scrambled for some kind of anchorage as he pulled out and thrusted back in, shunting you up the bed.

His pace was gruelling, sticky skin colliding with a wet fap fap fap. Your eyes rolled, mouth agape as breathy strings of whimpers fell from your lips. His cockhead nudged the plug of your womb, slamming into that spot that had you twitching and spasming.

"My good girl, my fucking good girl, look at you, taking me so well," Price muttered, definitely audible on camera. You clenched around him repeatedly, drawing throaty grunts from him. Your third orgasm was, not surprisingly, approaching quickly. Really fucking quickly. Especially when Price moved his free hand from your waist to toy with your puffy clit, giving it a light pinch before circling it. You sobbed out, clawing at the sheets.

"Captain, please—!"

"Fuck... beg for it... please, sweetheart, fucking beg for it." By the way Price was speaking, he was close.

Your cunt throbbed at that, a whine in his words.

"Please, Price, need to cum. Can I? P-please—fuck—please, captain, need to—"

He groaned, trying to mute himself as much as he could, sinking his top teeth into his bottom lip before urging himself to speak.

"Go on then. Cum 'round my cock," Price uttered lowly, eyes focused on your face. He could watch his cock fucking into your slick cunt whenever he wanted. He just wanted to see your beautiful face. "Good girl, that's it. You can cum. Let go for me, sweetheart."

"Oh my god, Price—" you keened, third orgasm slamming into you and sending you spiralling. White hot, body alight, nerves buzzing as you came around his cock, still burning hot inside you, abusing the plug of your womb.

"Fucking beautiful," Price grunted, still recording the way your cunt stretched taut around his girth, splattering wet across his pelvis.

He was close, twitching inside you. He was pawing at the mound of your belly, pressing his palm to where the imprint of his cock was visible, so fucking deep inside you. He moaned at the sight, salivating, hiking your dress up further to get a better view.

Overstimulation was creeping in. You whined, reaching down to skirt your fingernails across Price's bare abdomen.

"Please, Price, cum for me," you whimpered, voice coming out unusually sultry. "Cum inside me, please, captain."

"Holy fuck—" Price stuttered, spilling inside you instantly.

His warmth flooded you, spurting around his cock, dribbling out of your cunt. He spilled ropes and ropes, hot white ichor, filling your womb as you sobbed for him.

Price tossed his phone to the side, immediately dragging himself up your body, cock still inside. He pressed kisses all over your face, soothing you, the both of you shining with sweat. Your bare tits pressed against his bare chest as he whispered sweet words of affirmation in your ear.

You sighed.

There really wasn't any other man, your age or not, like Captain John Price.

"You alright?" He asked, kissing your earlobe, your jaw, your cheek, your nose, then finally your lips.

You smiled, his facial hair tickling your face. "Mhm."

"Good." He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking at the skin.

"You had fun filming your little videos?" You cooed, stroking a hand through his hair.

He grunted against your neck. "Of course. Straight to the wank bank they go, sweetheart."

You snorted, laughing. "For such an old man, you are so immature."

"I'm not an old man."

"You said you were earlier," you smiled. "Surprised you can still get it up."

"Fucking hell. You and Soap'd get along."

Your mischievous grin grew. "Oh, the one with the mohawk? Sexy—"

Price bit at your neck, making you yelp. He grumbled, "Don't push it."

You laughed, patting his head. You both lay in silence for a little while, listening to the dull, far-away vibrations of the music.

"We should probably rejoin the party..." You said in a disappointed mumble.

Price grunted, hugging you tighter. "Five minutes."

"Enough for round two, old man?"

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

This was meant to be longer and a bit fluffier but I got tired and horny so here you go hope you enjoyed mwah mwah xx

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #captain john price #call of duty mw2 #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #price smut #captain price x reader #captain’snirvana #cod mw2 #cod price

2K notes · View notes

smallmightsupremacy · 1 month

Text

Izuku isn't losing his arms and here's why:

Okay so I know that we're all freaking out over that one manga panel, but we really shouldn't be.

Deku isn't going to lose his arms. It's all in his head.

Just stay with me.

First and foremost, look at the reactions from the characters when they join the battlefield. Specifically Aizawa:

What about this screams 'one of my students just lost both of his arms and may not end up having a future as a hero anymore?'

You would think that if Hori were to really go through with Izuku losing his arms, he would put more emphasis on the characters' reactions to make it more impactful, right?

To further reinforce this idea, we also need to consider the significance of Izuku's hands in Katsuki's arc. Whether you view their relationship as romantic or not, you can't deny that Izuku's hands holds significance to Katsuki. It represents the time when their relationship first fell apart, and I think in order to call their relationship fully 'healed' and complete Katsuki's growth, he's going to need to accept Izuku's hand again.

I mean, look at how foreshadowed the handhold is. There's no way they're not going to be holding hands by the end of the series. It's a necessity at this point.

And yes, you can argue that they already did hold hands, but to me that handhold didn't seem like the official one. It wasn't as impactful as it could've been. Now, while I'm not saying that the handhold didn't have any emotion to it, I feel like it's impact got a little diluted by Katsuki's revival. It wasn't the main focus. I think that the proper handhold is going to come later and be in it's own moment.

And, I mean, Izuku kind of needs his hands for that to happen.

So now you may be wondering, if Izuku hasn't lost his arms, then how do you explain what's happening to him right now?

Well, like I said earlier, it's all in his head. I think it's AFO fucking around with his mind.

I think AFO is somehow manipulating the vestige world and OFA mental connection he was with Izuku to make him hallucinate that he's lost his arms. He wants Izuku to crumble, and what better way to do that than to convince him that his dream is over and that there's nothing he can do?

I feel like this has also been foreshadowed in a way too. Take a look at this picture:

This image already foreshadowed Ochako getting stabbed in the chest, so perhaps it's also foreshadowing Izuku's fate?

The knife is in his head, so perhaps it's hinting at him being affected psychologically?

Also, the idea that it's only those that are connected to the vestige realm that can see the illusions that AFO is planting would be a great way to get Katsuki to be a part of the final fight too.

We already know that's he's going to be involved somehow. Hori himself said that the ending for mha was going to be better than the ending for Hero's Rising (the one Kats and Izu share OFA), and what better way to improve that than have Katsuki come save him from the mind fuckery?

I also think that finally having Izuku and Katsuki fight side by side has been foreshadowed for a long time, and if that really were to happen, then there's no better time for that than the final fight.

Also, Katsuki's really the only one that can save Izuku right now if my theory were to be true. He's the only character that fits the very specific requirements that Izuku needs (being connected to the vestige realm, and also having a willingness to save/help Izuku).

Speaking of, Katsuki being connected to the vestige realm was a shock for us all, and it doesn't make sense for why Horikoshi would show us such ground-breaking information if he didn't plan on using it later. This has to be the later. There's no other case where I can see Katsuki's connection to the vestige realm being implemented into the story again other than this.

So here's the TL;DR:

Izuku is being mindfucked by AFO and Katsuki is going to be the one that brings him back to reality

#bnha #mha #mha theory #bnha theory #mha manga spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #one for all #all for one #mha predictions #bnha meta #mha meta #bkdk #bakudeku

462 notes · View notes

lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 1 month

Text

'Fake' Feelings

Zuko x Reader

Summary- In a pinch, you have to pretend to be in a relationship with Zuko. Little do you know it was never pretend for Zuko.

A/N- HAPPY BIRTHDAY @thethreeeyed-raven!!!!! This isn't my typical fandom as y'all know. I wrote this as a birthday gift to my best best best online friend. SHE'S AWESOME. Go check her fics out <3<3! CONTAINS A SINGLE BAD WORD >:)

Word Count- 2,468

"Mai, I already told you. I can't be with you!" Zuko was getting frustrated. While he did love Mai at one point, that was a long time ago. Zuko was now the Fire Lord, their relationship seemed like ages ago.

"And why not Zuko? We've been through this a hundred times. You always come running back, you're so pathetic. May as well cut the middle part and we can act like nothing happened." She stepped closer, pressing herself on his arm. "Like we always do..."

Zuko had finally realized how Mai controlled him. When he was weaker he was naive, now he knew what he wanted. Someone who never put him down, someone who never called him 'Pathetic.'

You.

He immediately thought of you. How you were so strong, but never put others down to feel powerful. How you always spoke your mind, but only out of the kindness you hid deep down.

Your walls were built up so high, but he knew who you were. He knew how beautiful you were.

"I can't be with you because I'm dating someone else." The words left his mouth faster than he could think.

This stopped Mai in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're not the only one I am allowed to go out with. We've been broken up for awhile now." Zuko was no longer on the defense, but the attack.

"You do know that I am the only one who could love you. Who could love a traitor, a banished prince. Who else, huh?" Her arms were crossed, a smirk on her face. She knew she outwitted him.

Releasing his bit lip, Zuko exclaims your name.

Her face dropped. She knew exactly who you were. She was furious.

"We'll see about that..." With that, she left the room.

You were on your way to visit Zuko, one of your closest friends, for a 'friend reunion' Sokka had planned. You were of course excited to see him after so long. Though, the ride on Appa was miserable. About a hundred "are we there yet"s and "I'm hungry"s from Sokka.

The five of you- Sokka, Toph, Katara, and Aang made it safely to The Fire Nation shortly.

Upon landing, a man in red robes greeted everyone.

"The Fire Lord sends his deepest regards, as he could not see to you himself. You are instructed to follow me to your rooms." He had a stoic expression, but you guessed he greeted people all the time.

Oh well, Zuko must be very busy as a Fire Lord. You were sad, but couldn't blame him.

What you didn't know was that Zuko was pacing his room, definitely not busy. In reality, he cleared his schedule as much as possible for the week you were all visiting.

How was he going to tell you? He was deeply embarrassed, not to mention Mai might try and pull something with you. He knew not to underestimate her.

The thought of her trying to hurt you was enough to rack up the nerve to confess. He just needed a moment alone with you.

A grand dinner was prepared for the Avatars arrival, the rest of you reaped the rewards of being his friends.

"This is SOO good!" Sokka exclaimed, "Zuko sure has a way with food....." He slammed a fist on the table, before quickly lifting more food to his mouth,

"Sokka, you know he has chefs who make the food, right? Please tell me you know that..." You deadpanned, looking at him.

"Uh... Yeah! Yeah, definitely...." He looked down, that was until a new voice appeared.

"Sokka, did you really think I cooked all this?" Zuko walked to the seat at the head of the table. You noticed you were sat to his right.

It was a Fire Nation tradition that the Lady of the house would sit to the right of the Lord... You brushed the thought off quickly, writing it all off as a coincidence.

"W-well I don't know! You've been working ALL DAY!" Sokka squawked.

The dinner went on smoothly, well as smoothly a dinner can go with this group. You could feel the servants and servers rolling their eyes at all the unprofessional comments, jokes, and laughter.

You didn't care, you were just happy Zuko was able to be himself.

Hours later, when everyone was worn out and had their stomachs filled, they started to head to bed.

You were one of the last to leave, having been helping tidy up as much as you could.

You thanked and farewelled the servers, trying your best to remember where your room was.

The Palace was much bigger than you remembered. The halls upon halls blurred together. You were soon lost.

Every direction you turned looked the same, you started to breathe heavy.

You could already see it, 'cause of death, starvation in the Fire Nation Palace.' Or maybe dehydration would take you quicker?

A man passed by, you were saved! Though, the closer you got the bigger his scowl grew.

"Excuse me, I think I'm lost. Can you help me?" You were nervous asking, it was so 'common' for someone to get lost in a palace. You were sure your cheeks were red.

His face was dark, his eyes covered by his demeanor. For some reason he seemed annoyed at you.

"Sir?"

A hand rested on your shoulder from behind. It started you, putting you into a 'fight mode.'

Turning around swiftly calmed your nerves as quickly as they came. It was Zuko.

"Can I help you?" Zuko was talking to the strange man, who was no longer so 'big and bad.'

"No Fire Lord Zuko, my apologies." He barred his head in a bow and left.

You had a small smile on your lips, "Thanks, he was starting to scare me." While you were positive you could have taken the man, you were tired and didn't really feel like fighting.

"Of course, I can show you to your room." He held his arm out, you took it.

The gesture was friendly, you told yourself. Nothing more.

You must have been lost for awhile, as it took a few minutes to get to your room. The small talk exchanged was nice, but something told you Zuko was hiding something.

At your door, he stopped. "Zuko, do you want to come in? You seem restless."

"Actually, I do have something to tell you..." The tone of his voice scared you.

"Oh, then please sit." He joined you on the edge of your end. The door shut behind you two.

You pushed a strand of hair back, nervously sitting. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not really sure how to tell you this... I really am ashamed to have to ask you for a really big favor..." You had seen him on edge a lot, he was quite the stressor. Nothing like this, though.

"Zuko, anything. What do you need me to do?" You questioned.

He looked down at his hands, "You can tell me. I'm in no position to judge you, you know that."

"I uh," He rubbed the back of his neck, "I told Mai that we were dating so she would stop trying to get with me." He spit out so fast you almost missed what he said.

"Oh."

Well that's not what you thought he would say...

"That's not the worst part." He lowered his face to his hands, "The ball in four days, well I told her you were going with me... She's got Ty Lee lining up suitors for her. Trying to make me mad. Also she uh, she's probably told everyone now..."

"Oh." You were at a loss for words.

"I... I don't know... I'm sorry. This is stupid, at the ball I'll tell everyone what happened. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen! It just slipped out an-"

"Zuko."

"Yes?"

"What if you don't have to tell everyone?"

You hadn't looked at him since he started talking. Honestly, a night with Zuko at a ball? It sounded like a dream. Zuko was handsome, kind, generous, and you'd had a crush on him for months. You knew he wouldn't ever really date you... So you might as well seize the opportunity, right? What could go wrong!

The two of you decided it would be wise to not tell anyone else it was fake, as Sokka, Toph, and Aang had big mouths. They'd slip up sooner or later. As for Katara, she wouldn't have kept that big of a secret from Aang.

So, for the next few days you and Zuko spent every second together. At first, it was coming up with plans for the ball. It turned into getting more physically comfortable with each other. That eventually escalated to spilling each other's deepest secrets, ya know... just in case...

Even in four days, you found yourself going from a crush to madly in love. You found out his quirks, what made him tick, his hidden likes and dislikes. Not a second was spent apart.

The afternoon before the ball you were stressed. It had been easy up until the ball. You just had to be yourself around Zuko, now you had to pretend in front of hundreds...

Katara helped you pick out a beautiful red and black dress. To match Zuko's of course.

A big scene was planned out between the two of you, Zuko would introduce you to everyone in an announcement and you'd walk don't the grand starts arm in arm with him.

It was fun to imagine and talk about, but now the 'what ifs' were running wild.

You somehow made your way to Zuko's room, knocking hesitantly. He begrudgingly opened, but became excited when he saw you.

"Zuko, I'm terrified." He quickly guided you into his room.

"What happened?"

"What if I fall? What if no one likes me? It's a lot of steps it-" He cut you off.

"Hey, it's okay... We can throw everything out the window. Just saw the words."

You swallowed thick. "No, no just... Just promise you'll be there? For me?"

Your name was a whisper on his lips, "Ill always be here for you... Just imagines its only us up there... Just normal day."

You nodded, more relaxed knowing he'd be by your side through I tall. It also gave you a wicked feeling of comfort to know he was still willing to do whatever you preferred. He would have ended the lie immediately if you asked, but you wanted to be there for him as well. To make sure Mai would leave him alone.

The Palace was bustling with people, waiters, food, activities, and entertainment. It all came to an abrupt stop when Lord Zuko appeared.

It was comical, trumpets blared and all head turned.

"Fire Lord Zuko, accompanied by-" Your name seemed unreal on his lips. To be announced with a Fire Lord? You felt you didn't deserve it.

You slowly walked into view of everyone, whispers erupting. To be 'accompanied by' was essentially dating for Lords and Ladys.

All eyes were on you as you took Zuko's arm, walking down the steps. You felt light, your grip tightening on Zukos.

"Almost there, I'm right here." His words were all the comfort you needed.

Music resumed and the party goers continued their fun.

That was expect for one person. Mai. She marched up to you, her questioning eyes on guard. Watching her march over sparked a fury in you, the fire started and didn't stop until you spoke.

"Hello Mai. How can I help you? Is your father well, since he lost his job as Governor and all..." You passively aggressively asked, a mock frown on your face.

"What would you know about Governor dad's and all? You grew up poor." Damn, she got you there.

"I guess the difference in poor and rich is personality. Cause you don't have one..." You shrugged your shoulders at her, biting back a laugh.

"At least Zuko loved me for who I am, not who I was pretending to be." She remarked, not really knowing why Zuko loved her or you.

"Damn Mai, you must know a lot about pretending. Seeing as you're a two faced bitch. Should I go and tell Ty Lee you called her an 'easy bed'." A gasp left her lips in shock, how did you know she said that? Well, you wouldn't tell her, but a gossiping Fire Sage spilled the beans.

Zuko, who had been temporarily called away to exchange pleasantries with a Navy Captain, had returned.

"Mai, I see you've met my girlfriend." He said, snaking a hand around your waist. Chills were sent up your spine.

She gave a scoff, "It'll never last. You're only in it because he's the Fire Lord." She pointed to you, then him, "And you, you just seemed to pick up the next girl you saw laying around. Talk about a downgrade. When you get tired of her, i'll be waiting." She walked away.

"What is her problem!" You exclaimed, face hot with anger.

"Jealousy, I think." He said.

You turned to face him completely. "What for, she doesn't even seem to like you anymore?"

"Maybe cause you're prettier than her?" He said, not realizing his own words.

Your cheeks were now flushed for a different reason. You swiped your lips with your tongue before speaking, "Thank you..."

Hours of dancing, partying, and eating went by. Everyone bought the act easily, you and Zuko were naturals at dating. The fun died down, and many were starting to go back home.

Zuko walked you back to your room, hand in hand.

"Thank you. I really cannot thank you enough, just ask. Whatever you want is yours." Zuko said, still grasping your hands at your bedroom door.

"I don't need anything. This was really fun actually, I know you were just pretending... but i've had the best time the past five days."

"Pretend?" His face screwed up, like he was in denial.

You blinked a few times, own lip curling. "Well, I mean... You made it pretty clear this was all just an act. I-I am not hurt." You were, but wouldn't let him know.

"Words cannot express how genuine these days have been... Oh gosh, I haven't felt this free since I was a child." He pressed on, serious.

"Y-you mean, none of this has been fake to you?"

"Well, I know you signed up for 'fake'." He looked over you, face uncertain.

With a step forward you spoke, "This hasn't been fake for me either..."

"Really?" He pressed his chest to your slightly, hand wavering around your waist. "Because I don't think I could live if you're lying right now."

"Will this answer your questions?" You leaned up, closing the gap and kissing him.

A/N-Thank you for reading, I haven't fully watched ATLA In a little bit sorry if Zuko is OOC!! When it's not midnight and I'm not super tired, I will edit any mistakes!

#avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #avatar aang #Zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader #katara atla #mai atla #fire nation #azula

514 notes · View notes